


Dead Men Tell No Tales

by Batagur



Series: The Charmed Ship [2]
Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-07
Updated: 2013-07-07
Packaged: 2017-12-18 01:26:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 41,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/874101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batagur/pseuds/Batagur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continued from One Silly, Bloody Wish Later,  Jack and James go in pursuit of the book that Jack stole for Beckett back in Singapore. However, Beckett hid its location so well that it will take a touch of necromancy to shake loose the truth.  But how do you trust the ghost of the slimy little eel you hated when in life?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by porridgebird and arwensong. Both have by undying gratitude and love!
> 
> There are implied past physical relationships in this story.

** The Caribbean ** ****

_Jack is not a morning person. I learned that very early on in our association. I, however, am. I am at my best just as dawn is a glimmering thought in the warm air of the Caribbean. Naturally, being on a ship, I took the initiative to start us underway. I roused the morning watch, (which would have normally been the job of the Bo'sun, but as this lackadaisical excuse for a sea vessel's crew seems to lack one, I did it myself) I checked our current status, and I set us on a new heading more westwardly and away from the heavily patrolled Spanish waters. We were well underway by the time Jack emerged from our cabin, blinking at me in consternation._

_~*~_

"James, what did you do? 

James Norrington turned smartly to face the bleary-eyed pirate captain. Poised and proper, he stood erect, hands clasped behind his back, as he would to give his morning report for any other commanding officer.   

"The ship currently is making good speed and we should see the windward passage by sunset." 

Jack blinked again and then managed to look alarmed. He shook his head and waved his hands before him as he marched up to Norrington. 

"No, no, no, no, no…. Bugger all. Too close." 

"I beg your pardon?" James said calmly.

Jack didn't answer James. He merely winced and then did a half-run, half-prance to the starboard rail. Jack scanned the sea intensely. James walked to join him. 

"Captain?" 

Jack head snapped about to look at James, and he gave him a very puzzled frown. More than likely it was because it had been the first time James had ever called him captain, even with prompting.  Jack waved a quick hand in his face, and then snapped his fingers several times just before James' nose. 

"You're awake then?" Jack asked. 

"Jack," James said on a disapproving sigh. 

Then Jack remembered the other pressing issue. He swiveled quickly on his heels and shouted up to the helm. 

"Bring her about, Mr. Cotton! Hard a-port." 

"Jack!" James exclaimed. 

Jack kept his eyes on the helm until he was sure that Mr. Cotton was obeying his order. He then turned to James. "Too close to the waters patrolled by your bloody British fleet!" 

"And so you sail into Spain's jurisdiction." 

"Those Spanish frigates ain't much to worry of, sweetling. The _Pearl_ can outdistance the lot, and most of them are too lazy to even try.  But your little British fleet is too full of eager beavers all poppin' t' get a shot off on one of the ships that sunk the _Endeavor_." 

Jack pushed himself off the starboard rail. His first step was long and with his usual flair. "You forget, my ex-commodore-dove, this be the _Black Pearl_ and not one of your fancy, painted little vessels that were toasted with a bottle o' wine in the standing cup by ol' George himself." 

James sighed but said nothing as he turned to follow the flamboyantly gesticulating pirate who was his mate and lover. How James wound up in this ludicrous situation was a long and disturbing story filled with deaths: many uncomfortable and grisly deaths. 

"Ex-commodore-dove?" James murmured disgruntled as he walked a few steps behind Jack. James knew that Jack never really acknowledged his last rank as admiral and, in fact, preferred to think of him as he had been as a commodore. He had even expressed a wish to live out a fantasy: having James dress in his old commodore uniform as Jack tied him down to the bed in their cabin and lovingly ravished him repeatedly. _"And I want it t' be that fancy one with all the feathers and frills, like the one I first clapped me eyes on at the docks below the fort, when you stuck that shiny sword in me face."_

"So you do see, sweetling, it be a bit counter-intuitive for you, who are still so used t' believing that British waters are safer. At this point in our lives, we must assume the opposite." 

At last James' vexation was more than he could stand.  "Jack, please do not call me 'sweetling' in front of the men."  
  
Jack turned back to look at James with a pout gracing his amazingly lovely lips, framed by that ridiculously braided beard and mustache.   
  
"By the stars man, this ship needs more discipline. I'm sure your father didn't call Mick 'sweetling' while they were on the seas." James just barely contained the loud, indignant growl in his voice. He didn't want the men privy to the argument between their captain and his new and frighteningly uncommon first mate.   
  
"Well, no," Jack said plainly.  James gave a small sigh, feeling vindicated by Jack's admission.   
  
"He called him 'honey cakes,'" Jack added with an overly bright smile. He then swiveled a turn back in the direction he had been heading and swaggered with exaggerated exuberance in the direction of the helm.  
  
James stood in stunned silence. 

They were bound for Tortuga for reasons only Jack could justify. And even he couldn't do so with a straight face.  James just saw it as a wasted trip for the crew to indulge in sloth and drunkenness for a few nights.  Rum seemed to be the fuel of this ship. 

Having traveled briefly with the _Pearl's_ complement before, but only as a deck hand, James was not surprised by the behavior or general blasé indolence. What he was surprised by was how easily they all seemed to accept his authority. 

Jack could make the men hop-to when it suited him to do so. Nevertheless, with no place pressing to go, Jack didn't seem so inclined. James found himself often in the position of disciplinarian upon the _Black Pearl_ , barking orders and frowning when the speed of response was not to his liking.  And if they thought Jack was frightening when he was in one of his feigned, manic-homicidal moods, they soiled themselves when they saw the ex-pirate-hunter just frown in their general direction.  As gratifying as that could be, James found it a little pathetic. 

However, James shrugged his shoulders and carried on. The _Black Pearl_ , shoddy discipline and substandard crew, had survived more than most. Who was he to judge in the end? 

**** 

~*~ 

_The first night we spent together on the_ Pearl _, James spread his lovely, long legs for me and I spent the rest of the evening settling into and getting re-acquainted with me new permanent haunt. Ah, my beautiful James!_

_Let me tell you all about heaven, mate. Heaven is a place just south of James Norrington's navel. Heaven has a lovely scent and taste. Heaven's soft and hot like silk in the Caribbean sun. Heaven's best experienced in candlelight and with the soft breathy words of love flowing from my James' lips as music. I could have spent my whole life long just snuggling up to those pretty bollocks. T'is making my mouth water t' think of it!_

_~*~_

Jack shooed Cotton from the helm and took the wheel of his beloved _Pearl_. "The windward passage," he muttered with contempt. "A bloody death trap that! And Norrington should know." 

But Jack couldn't stay angry with his James; not when he was blustering about the deck snapping orders at sailors like a bloody Royal Navy corsair. It was truly a sight to behold. Jack watched for a moment as James marched up the starboard side, his hawk-like gaze burning holes in the men going aloft. They all double-timed their efforts. Jack had never seen the _Pearl's_ crew so motivated. 

Jack would have kicked himself square in the hindquarters if he had seen the goofy, love-struck smile he wore as he watched his man at work below.  James stood proud and strong, a force to be reckoned with and none of the _Pearl's_ pirate crew wanted to reckon with that! 

Wild and untamable like the beautiful, deadly sea, James was a man  few could handle, and yet Jack was handling him just fine.  James gave his respect and loyalty completely when earned. Jack learned that the earning was not so easy, but Jack's faithfulness to his pledge to James had done most of the job for him.  The rest, it seemed, could be attributed to James' strangely perverse sense of humor. There was an irony here to be served: James as the first mate on the _Black Pearl_ , the ship that originally brought about his ruin. 

Or perhaps it was the way Jack could make the man scream his name in the night. Jack smiled again, pulling his gaze up and to the horizon as he remembered the way James begged to be taken just only the night before.  As addicted to James' silky passage as Jack was, he was equally sure that James was addicted to the feeling of Jack's heavy member sheathed in his depths. Just the way in which James would move, writhing sensually and pushing back on each thrust, snarling back over his shoulder, ordering Jack to move harder, faster, could be considered proof enough. 

It didn't do to be daydream so hard about that. Jack's sunny smile sobered as he realized he now had an achingly uncomfortable erection stowed away in his breeches. He scanned the deck looking for Cotton so he could hand off the helm once more. He needed a little time below to get himself in-hand… so to speak. 

"You have no self-control, have you?" 

James' voice came right next to his ear and Jack nearly jumped out of his skin in surprise. "Bloody bugger!" Jack whirled about to face him. 

James stood with that cool, bloody-infernal smirk on his face, his hands still clasped behind him, but his eyes travel conspicuously to the front of Jack's breeches. 

"Fiend!" Jack declared pushing a finger into James' chest.  James, in response, chuckled deliciously. 

"Go on, Captain," James said, his green eyes making sultry promises to Jack.  "I'll take the watch until you have… dealt with that pressing matter below." 

**** 

Four nights later, they made port in Tortuga. 

"Now that we are safe and tied fast, you may now wish to tell me the real reason we are here," James said to Jack, looking him over coolly. 

Jack gazed at him for a long moment, considering. When he at last spoke, it was in a hushed, confidential tone. "You know I love you and therefore I trust you, James-sweetling. We are here for..." Jack paused dramatically, looking about himself for eavesdroppers, for which there were plenty. "…rum." 

James frown turned into a full blown scowl. "For once, Jack, could you just tell me The Truth?" 

Jack smiled. "And what would be the sport in that?" The men standing about and listening chuckled softly. "Ask anyone. If I went about being straight all the time, who on this bleedin' ship would believe me?" 

**** 

Jack was barely four steps from the dock when he caught sight of a blazing pair of brightly painted eyes and crazily coiffed red hair, and she was marching right for him. 

"Scarlett," Jack murmured with a distressed grimace. He grabbed James' elbow and began to pull him along in a new direction. "Aye, and sooner or later I'll have to face that music, but not just yet," Jack added, rubbing his left cheek in memory. 

~*~

_I left Gibbs in Tortuga one year and a number of months back, and I think we both knew that we would cross paths again. Now, I could go over the whole history of it, mate, me and Gibbs and the lot, but I won't bore you such. Suffice it to say that I met ol' Gibbs in Singapore and we've been crossin' paths for decades now. Gibbs respects me because he knows the whole of it. He knows the unadulterated, unembellished truth… and he's still willin' to weave a tall tale about it. He told me once that people expect no less from tales which come from the sea and the men who sail her. I think he just gets a bit o' fun watchin' people's mouths drop open._

_Was Gibbs ever my lover? Not as such. I think I never suited his fancy. As for me, he never suited my fancy either. That was just as well. It's good to have a lackey… er conspirator who is not so deeply and complexly attached. And that, my dear friends, is the worth of Joshamee Gibbs._

_I knew I would find Gibbs just where I found him last time, bless the man._

_~*~_

When Jack's bucket of water from the rain barrel hit Gibbs' reclining form amidst the pigs, the man shot up and roared. 

"Curse you, scurvy dog! 'n don't ye know that drownin' a man sleepin' is more than just bad luck, but cowardly t' boot!" 

Gibbs then blinked and smiled when he recognized the man who had soaked him. "Jack Sparrow!" He stood, pushing disgruntled pigs out of his way, and began to cross the pen to where Jack stood, but then stopped cold, the smile fleeing his face. 

"Norrington?" 

Jack looked back at James, and James at Jack. 

**** 

"We need more crew," Jack explained to James as they walked towards the Cock's Crow inn, the premier watering hole of Tortuga. 

"And this starts with Mr. Gibbs how?" James asked. 

Jack sighed exaggeratedly. "T'is easy, luv. The way I see it, the problem be this: You are a mite too distractin'. Marchin' up and down me _Pearl_ with them long legs and those hot green eyes flashin,' I'd steer her right into a sand bar. You and that body of yours be takin' up my vision, so..." Jack stopped to take a healthy swig from the rum bottle he carried with him. He then corked the bottle and stuffed it in one of his voluminous pockets.  "Therefore!" he declared raising a triumphant finger.  "We need someone other than ourselves, whose loyalty is without question… muchly… who can bellow orders in our proxy while we are otherwise occupied testing the tensile strength of the bedding in our cabin." 

"You sincerely do not possess any self control," James said incredulously. 

"You, sir, underestimate the bewitchitude of your most attractive person," Jack answered with a slurring, authoritative voice. "There not be a man on the _Pearl_ that hasn't noticed your fine posterior." 

"Truly, Jack," James replied. "Now you are being wholly preposterous." 

"Am I?" Jack asked, swaying slightly as he turned back to James.  The smell of rum, strong on Jack's breath, hit James full in the face. 

"When did you start drinking this day, Jack?" James asked as he made a disagreeable face. 

Jack pulled himself back with a puzzled look. "Why's that matter?" 

James shook his head in exasperation. "Never mind." 

The Cock's Crow was crowded, as it usually was, with the usual drunken crowd playing dangerous games with blatant disregard.  Jack and James and their small entourage passed many a table where an active game of mumblety-peg or split the kipper was being play by steely-eyed, inebriated souls who should not have been in possession of sharp objects or projectile weapons. 

"Mrs. Turner told us he was dead," Gibbs said as he sat at the table across from Jack and James. 

"And so he was," Jack replied nonchalantly. "But death is not always a permanent state, as you well know… green flash at sunset and all." 

"You found the fountain!" 

Jack smile cocky, leaning back on his chair. "Found and used. But it’s no good to anyone else. It has a price like all these crazy mystical objects. So unless you plan on using it for someone else, ye best be plannin' on settlin' down in the swamps of Florida. I imagine ol' Hector is pretty tired of frogs and snakes for supper by now." 

"Barbossa found it as well?" 

"We had an accord," Jack smiled as he tipped back his drink. "And as much as I despise that black-hearted rapscallion, I wish him well. You see, a recipient of the fountain must stay within a league of the fountain and serve that mousy creature for all eternity…. A fair deal for some." 

"But not for Captain Jack Sparrow!" Gibbs let out with a knowing grin. 

Jack pouted slightly in response. "I had other reasons more pressing on me mind, actually." He looked briefly over to James. 

"I take it then that the fountain what which brought the admiral back isn't binding to him." 

"No," Jack replied. "He just gets his life back. No immortality. No eternal service to a large rodent with a squeaky voice and strange red breeches what lives in the middle of a swamp." 

Gibbs nodded. 

"Jack," James said in a hushed but peevish voice. "On to business?" 

"Ah, yes, business!" Jack agreed brightly. "Now Gibbs, the _Pearl_ may be in for a lengthy voyage so we be needin' a full ship's complement. Able bodied… sound of mind and what not." Jack waved a hand carelessly and then took another drink. 

"Aye then Jack," Gibbs smiled. "Crew enough for a crossin'?" 

"Mayhaps…,” Jack replied slyly. He then made a furtive motion with his head, his face trying to gesture to Gibbs. Gibbs gave him a puzzled look. 

"What's that now, Jack?" Gibbs said.

Jack smiled too brightly. "Gibbs! I think I see a mutual friend! Come, let's go greet him." Jack stood from their table. He turned swiftly to James. "You stay here, luv. Mind the rum." 

Jack trotted about the table, grabbing Gibbs by the arm. He literally yanked the man from his seat and dragged him along, leading him past a rather calm knife fight where two men, barely able to stand in place, faced each other, slicing the air with their blades while mumbling slurred insults and threats. 

Jack pulled Gibbs aside, with a finger to his own lips, hushing him. Jack put his mouth closer to Gibbs' ear. 

"Right mate, let’s just say we need to see Singapore again," he said in a tone quiet enough to be confidential but loud enough to be heard over the din. 

"Aye, Singapore," Gibbs said thoughtfully. "And ye don't trust Norrington." 

Jack pulled back blinking, slightly unsteady on his feet. He glared at Gibbs. "I trust me James with me life!" 

"Then why are we keepin' this counsel from him now?" Gibbs asked, confounding Jack's logic in its unsteady tracks.

Jack considered Gibbs' question with care. "Bad habit, mate. Bad habit." 

Gibbs nodded in understanding. "It's just as well, Jack. I can have men for you come the morn, but it be best that Norrington not be there when ye come to inspect them. Men about here might not take a shine to shippin' out with the former 'Pirate Hunter' as the ship's mate. I'd prefer not t' say such to the man's face." 

Jack nodded. "Point taken. I'll see that James is occupied with the preparations. That won't be hard t' do. The man still has a stick up his arse for proper preppper... Proper prepperrr... For getting everything square."

"Aye," Gibbs replied. He was silent for a moment as Jack weaved slightly in front of him. "So ye love him then?" Gibbs asked. 

"Aye," Jack answered forthrightly. "Love of me life. Who knew? Funny ol' world." 

"Aye," Gibbs agreed. "And the shine of love be new." 

Jack shrugged in that way of his, using his whole body. "Well, I've been smitten with dear Norrington for some time… and we technically became intimately acquainted more than a year before." 

Gibbs gave Jack a skeptical gaze. 

"We spent some time apart," Jack admitted. "He being trapped on an island by Calypso. Now, y'see what I used the fountain for, aye?" 

"Then it must be love!" Gibbs replied astounded. 

Jack frowned for a moment as he realized what Gibbs' surprise suggested about what Gibbs thought of him. But instead of asking a question that would possibly lead to confusing answers, Jack chose that time to end the conversation. Grabbing a nearly empty bottle from a table, he broke it over the head of one of the drunken combatants as he swayed too close. The wobbly knife fight came to an abrupt end as the man capsized, tumbling to the ground like a fallen tree. The other combatant and onlookers stared at the unconscious man with confused vexation. However no one stopped or questioned Jack as he stepped over the prone man, excusing himself with exaggerated politeness as he went. 

"Pardon us, mates." 

Gibbs followed. 

**** 

Back on board the _Pearl_ before the end of second watch was an unusual place for Jack to be while making port.  Nevertheless, his James declared an end to his drinking and took charge of him by the arm. Jack was propelled through the streets of Tortuga at an angry march, all the while smiling and flirting at every familiar painted face he saw… until he saw Giselle. Then Jack just prayed that James wouldn't slow.  In that, Jack was fortunate. His mate had a right full head of self righteous angry steam. 

The march didn't slow or stop, even through the worst of the street’s drunken revelries, until Jack was propelled with great force through the threshold of the _Pearl's_ grand cabin. Jack stumbled headlong, catching himself on the edge of his large oak navigation table. Jack turned as he managed to get his feet back under himself. James wore the stormiest scowl he had yet come to see, and it was beautiful. 

"Jamie-sweetling?" 

"Do not call me that right now. I'm liable to stuff the ruddy words back down your throat!" 

Jack pouted. "You're mad at your ol' Jack?" 

James huffed a growl and closed the cabin door. "What was so important that you could tell Gibbs and not me? Am I not the first mate of this ship? Am I not privy to the captain's counsel?" 

"Oh!" Jack said half to himself, an amused smile brightening his face. "Sorry 'bout all that, luv. T'is an embarrassin' little habit, to be sure, and do I have egg on me face at that." 

"You will have a fist print on your face soon enough, Sparrow, if you do not tell me what is going on." 

"Now just calm yourself, my sweetling. It's such a simple thing." 

James' frown took on an even more menacing edge, and Jack knew he had best be quick with the explanations. James made no idle threats. Nevertheless, James' ire made him more irresistible to Jack and Jack loved challenges. He walked up slowly to his angry lover, and reached out to touch his face. 

"There is a story about me that only you and Gibbs know." 

"That being?" James asked suspiciously, but he did not pull away from the touch. 

"That being the story of the Dragon Book: a certain book once owned by Sao Feng and given to Lord Beckett the elder." 

"A book you stole to please your former lover, Cutler Beckett," James added cuttingly. 

Jack frowned and snatched his hand back as if burnt. He looked James over irritably, but then went to the side cabinet of the cabin. He pulled from its cluttered depths a small chest. Pulling a key from his waistcoat pocket, Jack opened the chest. He pulled forth the rolled center of Sao Feng's map, slapping it down on the table. 

Jack turned with a small flourish, and stopped to look James over as if he were gauging the strength of his possible reactions and the best way to proceed. Then he just dived forward, his left hand pulling back the fold of James' coat while the right hand grasped the compass looped to James' belt. Jack's own compass given to James to hold as a pledge that James also holds Jack's heart. 

Jack slapped the compass down next to the chart. 

"Together, luv, these two items be powerful indeed, but their power is limited. We are hitting upon the limits of that power now." Jack slowly walked back up to James and pressed his lips to James' ear. 

"The book, sweetling," he whispered. "T'is the final piece. With it our power would be limitless." Jack added a small kiss to James' earlobe for good measure.  

"Limitless to what end, Jack?" James asked darkly. 

Jack took a step to stand before James, placing an arm about his waist, he pulled him close. 

"There is magic still out there, my love! Magic for us to find. Imagine if we could find a genie in a bottle or a magic sword. Think of all the things we could do!" 

Jack then laid a soft kiss to James' lips. "Together," he added in a whisper. 

"If Sao Feng had all these items in his possession at one time, why did he not utilize them thus?" 

"Ah!" Jack said stepping back from James and lifting a finger as he drove his point. "He didn't have the compass.  Fear of Calypso herself kept him from gaining it.  Sao Feng was not a visionary.  He was a materialistic type who feared that which slipped beyond to the supernatural." 

"So he just gave the book away, like that," James said skeptically. 

"He underestimated its worth. Dear Cutty did not." 

"So it would seem," James added dryly. "Now, Jack, what do you have in mind?" 

Jack smiled. James looked less threatening but still beautiful and that bode well for Jack. 

"Well, luv, I think we need to make a voyage to find that book." 

"And just where shall we start?" James replied darkly. "It makes sense that Beckett kept that book in a very secure location. If I were him, it would be with me at all times. That leads it to be at the bottom of the ocean floor with the _Endeavor_." 

"That is if _you_ were him, sweetling, which, thank the stars, you are not. No! Cutty was a sly bastard. He left that book in the safest locale he had." 

"And that would be?" 

"Singapore." 

"Are you sure?" 

"With a side trip to Port Royal." 

"You are purely daft, Jack," James exclaimed. "We can't just sail the _Black Pearl_ into harbor at Port Royal!" 

"I know that," Jack said with a flustered wave of his hands. "That's why you and me are going in alone. We have a pirate king t' visit." 

"Pirate king?" 

"Never mind that, luv. We have other matters to discuss now." 

"Such as?"

"Such as tomorrow. Gibbs is currently rounding up more hands."

"Hands that can be trusted, I hope," James said with a frown.  

"I have every faith in Mr. Gibbs," Jack replied. "He has never let me down…" 

"Except that little incident on the docks of Tortuga that you told me of." James crossed his arms over his chest and regarded Jack. 

"Well, that was after sleepin' off a drunk. I'll forgive that." 

"The man neglected his watch and allowed the _Black Pearl_ to be stolen by a mutinous mate." 

"T'was Barbossa. All the same, I wouldn't put it past Hector to slip something in ol' Gibbsies cup." 

"You think he was a victim?" James asked incredulously. 

"I'm not rightly sayin' that's how it came about. I'm just statin' the possibilities." 

"The man abandoned his post, just as he deserted from the Royal Navy." 

"Deserted or forced out, luv? T'is a different thing when the threat of a man's life and freedom hang in the balance. What choice did he have, eh?" Jack asked as he walked back over to a cupboard. He pulled a new bottle of rum out from within. 

James walked smartly to his side, snatching the rum from his hands. "You've had enough of that!" 

Jack glared at him. "And when did you become me bloody mum?" 

"Someone has to mind your drinking lest we all wind up dead with you at the helm. Also, I prefer to talk to you while you are still coherent. Get used to it, Sparrow, unless you believe our association is in error." 

Jack flinched. 

"More bloody demanding than some hell-cat woman," Jack muttered under his breath. 

"I think you will find that I am also more lethal," James added calmly.

"Have you no mercy for the man who loves you?" 

"Yes," James replied simply but did not give back the rum. 

Jack sighed in disappointment. 

"You were saying about Mr. Gibbs?" James prompted. 

"Ah, Gibbs," Jack continued. "The man is solely looking to our best interest. I happen to agree with him.  You needn't be present when we take on the new men."

"And why would this be necessary?

"You're a tad bit scary to the average scallywag, luv." Jack said carefully. "Be that as it may," he added in a brighter voice, "we have a need to see to the restock and provisions. On the morrow, I'll hand you the Privy Purse and send you off with Mr. Marty; he'll know just where to go. You can take your scowl and bellow to the market men and get us a fine price on the lot. What say you to that?" 

James looked him over critically. His eyes narrowed. 

"Does that mean, 'Fine thinking, Jack. I'll do just that. Now let’s go have a right proper tumble'?" 

James handed him the rum. "Drink yourself to sleep." 

Jack frowned first at James and then the bottle. Then with a shrug, he uncorked it and took a deep swallow. It seemed like a fair Plan B. 


	2. Chapter 2

~*~ 

 _As I stated before, Jack is not a morning person. However, there are a few things that he is, like impossibly lustful. So when I woke him just before dawn by nibbling lightly on his collarbone, what choice did he have? He cursed me with every thrust._

_I do love him, and he must realize that. I must try to believe him when he tells me that he loves me. Nevertheless, there is a trust issue between us that is strangely undefined. Jack calls it a bad habit. I call it unbreakable conditioning._

_~*~_  

Jack's head rested upon James' chest as he caught his breath. James smiled to himself as he stroked back his lover's plaited and dreadlocked hair. 

"Me head is pounding, and you did that just to make me fetch the tea," Jack whined softly against James' chest. 

"You make the better cup, dear Jackie." 

"Treacherous bilge-rat," Jack muttered against his chest. 

James chuckled. "We have a full day ahead of us.  We should make the most of this lovely morning." 

"Feculent weasel." 

"Now, Jack, let's not be so testy. The sooner we are up and about our work, the sooner we will be out to sea once more," James said cheerfully. 

"I hate you." 

James laughed. 

"This be totally on purpose. It's some bloody revenge for something I did to you in the past." Jack lifted his head to look James in the eyes. 

"I could write you out a definitive list, if you wish," James replied. 

They were silent for a few seconds longer. Then Jack smiled, slowly and wickedly. 

"I love you," Jack said. 

"And I you," James replied. 

Amazingly enough for any other person who knew Jack Sparrow to comprehend, but not so much for James, Jack got up. He moved about the cabin, pulling on clothing and grabbing a battered old tea pot. 

Cookie had learned to start the cook fires a wee bit earlier since James had joined the crew. In fact, the whole crew of the _Black Pearl_ was grudgingly learning to adjust at being awakened for duty just before cock's crow.  James was simply amazed by the influence he wielded aboard the ship.  Within a handful of days as the first mate and the captain's man, he had changed a very large margin of the crew's more shoddy habits. 

James rose as well. There was simply no reason to be a slug-a-bed when Jack was so lovingly fetching him tea. He stepped into a pair of breeches that Jack had acquired for him to replace the once white breeches that were part of his last uniform. He then slipped into the mended white shirt he possessed. He felt his chin to gauge the necessity for a shave. He determined that he could go this day without. Although he enjoyed being freshly groomed, he began to consider things on a more time-saving and resource-preserving basis, as was often necessary on board a ship. Also, one would say that perhaps the pirates' shoddy habits had a reverse influence on him. There was a tit-for-tat. 

He put on his overcoat, the heavily brocaded coat of an admiral in the East India Company.  The rip in the back of the coat had been crudely stitched closed and James was proud of its battered condition.  It made him feel even more the pirate of honor. There he was: an ex-admiral who chose his pirate destiny freely and was happier for it. 

When James stepped out on deck, he turned his face eastward and to the sunrise which was just a streak of gold along the horizon. He longed to be out to sea once more. And he wholly empathized with Jack on the subject of the sea. A good ship was home and the sea was freedom. After a deep cleansing breath of morning air, James headed down into the hold to rouse the morning watch so they may relieve the night watch. 

He found, much to his relief, that the morning men were relatively easy to rouse. One of the four-man team, a sailor named Ragetti, informed him of the reason why: 

"We be figurin' that if we be in port or no, you were going to get us up at the same time as afore, Mr. James.  So we just made our night a little earlier than usual. Still managed t' have us a fine time all the same, sir." 

~*~ 

 _Amazingly adaptable, these pirates._

_~*~_

James had discussed this once with Jack. Jack's explanation was simple: "These men serve the _Pearl_ 'cause they signed on with their own hand and their own free will. I don't operate press-gangs t' get crew." 

James considered Jack's explanation as valid but incomplete.  There was something more involved in the faithful service of the _Pearl's_ crew that James wanted to get to the heart of. 

To his face they called him "Mr. James" as they had been instructed to do. This had, of course, been Jack's idea. Jack felt that the name 'Norrington' would have bad associations with his crew, and the use of James' Christian name could soften the men up more to him. But James also knew that behind his back they called him "The Commodore" with a great touch of mockery but also with some respect. It was how they acknowledged his authority on the _Pearl_ and his strong influence on her captain without being overtly insubordinate. James accepted this. Let them resent him a little. It was inevitable. Besides, James assumed that a pirate ship should not be the setting for a popularity contest.  

Nevertheless, the men adored Jack, and perhaps that was as it should be. Every single man-jack of them respected Jack's authority without question. It was probably this one thing that gave James his own authority aboard the _Pearl_.  Jack pointed the course for them to accept James, and the crew willfully followed their captain. 

When James stepped back up on deck, following the yawning dawn watch, he was met by Jack who held two steaming, full tin cups. The one in his left hand he handed off to James. James took a cautious sip.  Tea with honey; he had the correct cup. Jack took his tea sweetened with rum. That was not James' idea of breakfast beverages. However, James discovered that that first tipple in Jack actually made him more coherent and less grumpy. 

They stood side by side, sipping their tea, and watched as the dawn watch relieved the night watch. The three men of the night watch shuffled past them with barely an acknowledging look as they headed for the galley to take in a little breakfast before they bunked down. The lack of acknowledgement still unnerved James a little. On a proper British vessel, a man of rank would be acknowledged by his passing subordinates almost always. Only in pitched battle or an emergency that required all hands would it not be necessary for the sailors and marines to acknowledge the officers with a greeting or a salute.  

It unnerved him still, but not so much as it did the first time he had noted it when he had been just a rum-soaked deck-hand on the _Pearl_. He had expected it and it had not been necessary. Therefore it had offered another opportunity for laughter and ridicule from the pirates when he had saluted Mr. Gibbs smartly in the morning before they set sail. 

However, he had been taken by surprise his first day back on the _Pearl_ as the new first mate, when two of the sailors had stopped in their tracks, stood at rigid attention and saluted properly. James had stared at the two men hard, knowing that he knew those faces. Then it dawned on him. He folded his hands behind himself smartly and looked past the two men, his bearing completely military and assured. 

"Mr. Murtogg… Mr. Mullroy…. As you were, gentlemen." 

The two had breathed out a relieved sigh as he passed. James had wondered what they had expected: Punishment? An official reprimand? A public flogging? 

After James had made it through half his cup of tea, Jack spoke to him. At last he sounded awake, alert and ready for the day. 

"So we are settled on the plan, luv, aye? You get the stores and I get the crew?" 

"Yes, Jack, we are settled," he agreed calmly and then took another sip of his cooling tea. "I'll need two men more with me for logistical purposes." 

"Take your pick then," Jack replied with a mild smile. "Good thinking, too. Have them armed. Those bastards in the market are trickier and more ruthless than most of the pirates they supply." 

"More than likely a trait born of necessity, considering their clientele." 

Jack nodded. "I'll buy that." Jack then plucked the near empty cup from James' hands and turned on his heels. He headed back down towards the hold and the galley. James watched him with a content smile. 

It was amazing how well he got along with Jack once he let go of that pointless animosity that had driven him from the moment he had laid eyes on him. James had thought his disdain and loathing of the pirate had had a point. He had thought he had been justified. Now he realized that he had been hiding behind the easy emotion of hate in an attempt to help cobble together what had been his picture of a perfect life.  How could he love the woman of his dreams when his dreams were haunted by a reprobate scallywag with painted eyes and a wicked smile that made strange things happen to a certain occupant of his breeches?  

Unbreakable conditioning, however, still made him question every little motive of his lover. Perhaps it was still prudent to do so. James would have to wait and see. Perhaps with time, all would be well. 

**** 

A short time later, Mr. Marty, the shortest sailor James had ever known, approached him on deck. The man held out a small leather purse to James. 

"Dey Captain told me give you dis," the man said in his gravely, high voice with a hint of an accent. James could not place the origin of the accent but guessed Hungarian.  Despite the fact that men of his type were rarely seen outside of traveling menageries and gypsy shows, Mr. Marty was a wonderfully competent sailor, in James' opinion. 

The purse was the money Jack had promised him for buying stores. It wasn't much, but it would get them the basics. 

"Very good, Mr. Marty," James said pleased. "Shall we go?" He turned and looked over the main deck to the men who ambled about. "Mr. Murtogg and Mr. Mullroy, you are with us. Step to, men." 

**** 

Jack watched James and his small party step down the plank to the dock below. 

 _~*~_

_There he goes, and not a moment too soon. Gibbs will be here soon enough and last thing I need is my scowlin' Jamie stormin' about making any new men twitchy. I don't care for twitchy men. They be prone to mutiny and other such nonsense._

_It is hard to believe that it has been a week and more since we began our venture together.  Yet here we are and no one has been throttled. Too soon t' call it a success yet. I wonder how he will take the rest of my plan?_

_~*~_  

Gibbs arranged the men on the docks below for Jack to review. Jack walked up the line of ten able-bodied men, looking each in the eye. He was followed by Gibbs and Mr. Cotton. He stopped before a swarthy man with gold hoops in each ear. He wore the clothing of a Barbary Coast sailor.  Jack inclined his head to Mr. Cotton. At that signal, Cotton's parrot spoke. 

"Awk! Sailor, do you have the courage and fortitude to follow orders and stay true in the face of danger and almost certain death?  Awrrrk!" 

The man stood confused for a moment, but Gibbs caught his attention. 

"Answer the question to the captain, Mr. Ali." 

"Aye, sir. Aye," the man boomed at Jack in a bass voice. 

Jack blinked and he leaned back and away from the man, taken startled by his strong response. 

"Good," Jack smiled. 

Ten men, most of them young, most of them healthy, and all of them looking sound. 

"We'll take the lot," Jack proclaimed with a casual wave of his hand. 

"Wind in your sails! Awrrrk!" 

Jack turned to look at Mr. Cotton, who looked at Jack with a pleased and satisfied expression. He gave Jack an approving nod. 

"So glad we are all in agreement," Jack said briskly. 

Gibbs directed the men to a barrel where a paper with the ship's articles sat. He took up a quill and ink and stood next to the barrel at ready so each of the new recruits could make their mark. Jack observed as each man came forward. Most marked with simple lines or a stylized 'X'. A few wrote out names. Jack could not assume that the names given on the page were the names the men were given at their birth. Most pirates preferred to be known only by aliases and nicknames that announced how vicious a scallywag they were. 

One youngish looking sailor scrawled out his full name in very neat cursive that suggested schooling. After all the men finished and moved off to board with Gibbs, Jack took the parchment to look more closely at the young sailor's name. 

 _Theodore A. Groves._  

Jack's eyes narrowed as he thought. There was something particular about that name; something he should know.  One thing he did know was that Mr. Groves had schooling and schooling in a good lot of sailors not only suggested Royal Navy, but Royal Navy officer. 

Jack made a mental note to ask Gibbs to keep an eye on him. 

"Bloody trouble, those navy men…." Jack muttered to himself as he rolled the parchment and headed back on board. 


	3. Chapter 3

James was back before noon with what amounted to two wagonloads of supplies. Gibbs immediately set men to the task of unloading and settling the stock. Jack stood on the main deck near the gangplank and watched with authority. He was soon joined by James. 

"Two full barrels of citrus fruit, salted meats, two nanny goats and four hens, barrels of flour for biscuits and four full casks of rum," James proclaimed as they watched men march past laden with slab upon slab of salted, dried pork.  

Jack turned to James with a wide smile. "You truly are the man o' me dreams." 

James smiled smugly. 

"Oh, what I'm bound t' do with you tonight," Jack added in a husky low tone. "Four full casks you say? All that with what I gave you?" 

James turned to look at Jack, still with his most smug smile, "You told me to take my menace to the merchants. Menacing is something I do rather well." 

Jack laughed. He could just imagine the market place smelled of piss and fear, more so than usual about now. He was so enjoying the moment that he nearly missed when James spied the new, young sailor who was helping haul up the first of the four casks. The infernal-proud smirk was wiped straight from James' face and was replaced by a deep and stormy scowl. 

"Excuse me," James muttered as he turned on his heels and marched off, heading below.  Jack watched and wondered. 

~*~ 

_A mate of his? That one was an officer, to be sure. I have no doubt of it now. My Jamie knew him. But what does it mean?_

_~*~_

Jack watched as the shirtless sailor with three others put their backs into rolling the cask up the gangplank and on to the deck. They would then maneuver it to the block and ropes over the main hold. Jack watched with a critical eye. 

The man was quite pretty with curling hair over an expressive brow. His mouth looked sinfully delicious and his shoulders were broad and strong. His back tapered down to a narrow waist and the perkiest arse Jack had seen on a man in a long while. 

~*~ 

_Aye, but the Royal Navy makes 'em lovely!_

_~*~_

Then something occurred to Jack; something that stole the leer he was wearing off his face. This man, this Mr. Groves was a fair young officer, possibly one under James' command at some time? Perhaps even a friend? A confidant? 

An old lover? 

That thought made Jack's stomach ache in a funny, fluttery way, and his desire to find a full bottle of rum got a whole lot stronger. 

**** 

~*~ 

_My world grows smaller by the day. Is this where all castaways of Fort Charles land?_

_~*~_  

"Yours is the very last face I expected to see on board this ship," James said as he stepped forth from the shadows of the hold's aft stair. James had waited until the men had settled the last cask. The four-man crew had just lashed the cask in place and then stood and stretched, preparing to go back up on deck. They were lumbering up the stair with Groves at the end of the procession. 

At the sound of James' voice, Groves stood straight abruptly, turning towards the sound. A look of pure shock came over his features. His brown eyes were round in astonishment. 

"Admiral! Sir!" 

James walked forward to the man. "I'm not an admiral here. The men call me Mr. James… to my face. You will soon discover what they call me behind my back." 

Groves looked at James, blinking in the lantern light. "We thought you dead." 

"I was," James replied smoothly. "Killed aboard the _Dutchman_ …. But I was fortunate." He looked back up the stairs. "I was a lost soul found." He then looked back at Groves. "But what is your story?" 

"Certainly not as glamorous as being lost then found," Groves said, looking away from James with what must have been the pain of bad memories on his handsome face. "I was one of the few who survived the sinking of the _Endeavor_. The East India Company is not kind to their fallen warriors, not as the Royal Navy has often been. We were cast off as redundant. Then no ship would take us.  Survivors of a cursed ship, we were branded as cursed.  It was a road to ruin." 

James said nothing for the moment as he though this over. He understood the road to ruin. He had walked its dirty path once himself. 

"So now you put your lot in with pirates," James said. 

Groves faced him squarely once more. "As have you, sir." 

James smiled a slow sad smile. He walked past him heading towards the stair. As he passed, he laid a hand on Groves' shoulder. "Welcome aboard the _Black Pearl_ , Mr. Groves." 

James headed back out towards the deck and the noonday sunshine. 

**** 

James finally retired for the evening when the last cook fire was doused and the evening watch was nearing the change with the night watch. Most of the men were in their berths. Only a few diehards played a quiet game of dice in a corner while one man quietly winded a concertina in a slow shanty. 

James came into the great cabin, finding Jack seated at the chart table, a bottle of rum before him as he twirled a small navigation compass in his fingers. He looked thoughtful as he just stared at the thin metal instrument, his beautiful mouth set in a soft pout. 

James loved Jack's mouth. It had to be the sweetest and most delicate thing James had ever seen on any human being, man or woman. James loved how Jack's beard, meant to make him more outlandish and obnoxious, only framed his lips' exquisite shape. Perfect lips, so very lovely; James longed to taste them, always. 

"Jack?" 

Jack looked up at James; his eyes seemed troubled, but only for a brief moment. 

"All's squared away then, sweetling?" Jack asked as he stood from the table. 

"We are ready to set sail at first light." 

Jack moved towards him with that particular sway of hips that James had at their first meeting found ludicrous and comical. Now he found the roll and sway of Jack's lithe, strong form intoxicating. It was like watching a dance. At times it was a drunken dance, but it was a dance all the same, performed by a strong and able dancer. 

Jack slipped his arms about James, pulling him closer. "'ello, luv." 

Yes, Jack had been drinking, but James only smiled, looking down on his lover. James towered over Jack by almost a head, but Jack never seemed daunted by their size difference. 

"So," James said in a soft and sultry tone. "You mentioned a need to do something to me this evening?" 

He watched Jack's perfectly lovely lips split into that wickedly bewitching smile, complete with gold and silver teeth. 

"That I did, my Jamie. I had quite a few things in mind; all of them right lovely and very pleasurable for an evening." 

James chucked. "Then I'll ask you first to give me a drink.  Sharing the rum seems to go along with sharing the pleasures, as I recall." 

Jack let him go for the moment to go to the navigation table. He grabbed up the bottle and brought it back to James. James took it and tipped it back to take his first healthy swig of the evening, noting with no small amount of excitement that Jack was sinking to his knees before him. 

This is one of the many things that got James more excited than he ever dreamed possible. Those perfect, delectable lips going about his aching manhood was pure bliss. Just the thought of Jack's perfect mouth on his hardness was enough to send him almost completely beyond control. 

"Oh, my Jack!" James moaned softly, as he felt Jack undo the fastens of his breeches. Warm fingers reached in and pulled his hardening member free of his clothing. James shivered as Jack laid a small delicate kiss to the shaft. Jack then began to nuzzle it warmly, breathing James in. The tickle of Jack's facial hair made James giggle ever so slightly on the end of a breathy moan of pleasure. 

"Mmm. Hush and keep drinking, sweetling" Jack murmured softly as he continued to nuzzle kisses against James' hardened shaft. 

"Perhaps we should take this to our cabin," James suggested a little breathlessly. 

"Now, there is a notion." Jack grinned. He rose smoothly before James and took him by the hand. "Hold on t' your britches, luv. We're on the move." 

James chuckled but did grab a handful of his breeches before they stepped off. They could have slipped from his hips otherwise.  

~*~ 

_I wonder if Jack knows? He completes me when we touch like this, and I've never felt this way before. I never knew a human being could feel this way. I don't know why I waited so long to realize this joy. I was truly half a man before. Our touch, our love makes us one._

_How can such a thing be wrong? Yet all the clergy of my youth would condemn me to hell for my love.  We express the joy of our love when we touch. We share our bodies with each other and glimpse paradise at each sweet moment. How can something that feels so close to divine be considered so wicked?_

_If Satan is deceiving us with false paradise, then we are doomed. I am doomed. I will never surrender my love ever again._

_Never ever again._

_~*~_

James laid back on the bed, naked, warm and his heart so very full as Jack gently, sweetly lay atop him, fitting himself between James' spread legs. Hot breath and soft kisses touched James' throat.  Jack's hair that smelled of sea salt and Oriental patchouli fell across James' shoulder. 

The bottle of rum sat on the floor by the bed, in easy reach, but it was forgotten for now. Right then, right at that moment, James only knew his love for Jack. He could only feel Jack's flesh on his own. Their bodies moving, sliding, surging, rolling like the inexorable tide, became the focal point of James' entire being. Jack held one of James' hands down on the bed, above their heads, their fingers intertwined. Their pricks, pressed between their bodies, moved against each other, sparking fire like flint strikes.  And amidst all this, James told Jack of his love in a breathless, ardent whisper. 

Jack had teased him before about how chatty James could become while they made love. However, Jack had also expressed to him that he loved to hear his Jamie's soft words of passion. 

"Oh love! My Jack! Forever! Mine!" 

"Yes, sweetling," Jack chuckled warmly against James ear. "I'm all yours, to be sure." 

"Oh, my Jack, please, inside me! Make me whole!" 

Jack's chuckle turned throaty and provocative and it made a shiver run down James' spine. He loved it when Jack purred like that. It made his pirate lover seem so much more feral.

 Jack lifted off of James, leaving his flesh cooling, even the palm and fingers of the hand Jack had held, but James wasn't concerned or disappointed. He knew what Jack was up to. He watched as Jack dove across the bed and reached over and under to retrieve a small pot that contained the salve Jack like to use to smooth the way.  James let himself be pliable when Jack spread his open thighs wider still. 

When Jack smoothed the first dollop of the salve against James' tender opening, James' sigh was nearly a coo of delight. His breathing was deep and shuttering, and he whispered sweet encouragements to his pirate-love. James trembled beneath tender kisses on his lips, neck and chest, as Jack's fingers stroked slowly inside him. James happily gave himself over to Jack's touch. Jack's fingers opened him in preparation. 

Jack had shown things to James about his own body that he had never known or realized before.  James had never known that within his body lay a pleasure point, so sensitive and so responsive that he could just about ride the wave of its pleasure to sweet oblivion without ever laying hands on his member. James had never realized that pleasure could be taken so very high. When Jack at last pierced him with his ready shaft, James bit his lip and breathed out to ride out the slight discomfort. He relaxed more, tilting his hips up and his thighs open, even more so. 

Then Jack was moving, dancing inside James. James reached out to smooth his hand slowly down Jack's lean, strong chest, feeling muscles flex like rock beneath the hot velvet of sun-kissed skin. James' fingertips traced the lines of a tattoo, some intricate Oriental pattern. He touched Jack's chin with a loving caress across the round red mark just to the right of his braided beard. 

But, mostly, James looked up into his lover's eyes as they moved together. And with his eyes alone, James tried to convey how deep his love ran. He saw the depths of a storm in Jack's eyes. Darkness that promised to hold him fast and never let go lived there. But it was not an evil darkness.  It was a secret darkness that held only James, like a flame against eternal night; a sweet secret held close. James embraced it as his body surrendered to bliss. 

Jack came inside him. Jack's hand had milked the seed from him scant seconds before and James was still trembling from the plunge into pure oblivion after such a soul-searing high. 

Jack tumbled against James' chest, shivering and panting. They were complete. 

**** 

~*~ 

_My James is quite the romantic. If I could have a Spanish doubloon for every time he says he loves me when we are on the mattress, I could buy me another ship, almost as fine as the_ Pearl _._

_Now, I'm not one to complain, 'specially since I'm the one who started it with the first 'I love you' and all._

_For now, my James is just sleepy, snuggled against me and snoozing, which is also fine with me. More rum for myself._

_~*~_

Jack sat up in bed, a blanket pulled up over his naked lap. He held the rum bottle in one hand while the other played in James' hair. James lay next to him with his head practically on Jack's lap.

_"And the shine of love be new."_ Words Gibbs had said to him when Jack told him of his love for James.  Often the shine of the new is brighter than reality. Time and again  that shine wears away and then what's left is not as appealing. 

Jack let soft strands of dark chestnut hair slip between his fingers as he contemplated the man sleeping at his side. What of James would wear soon on Jack? 

~*~ 

_Playin' the mother hen and tellin' me when to drink, when to bathe, when to swear, or what to eat… not that he's done much of that. But he has hinted. I could live with much else, but I don't take kindly to changing me ways so late in the game, mate.  I am what I am._

_He is what he is. He's clean and proper. He's a gentleman at heart, and there really is no hiding it. How will he feel about our first proper raid together? Will he balk like a stubborn mule?_

_Fortunately, we haven't a pressing need for finances thanks to ol' Hector's effectiveness and productivity. However, there is a matter we should discuss that will involve him in a bit of illegal activity. I'll be needin' the information that only the ex-commander of Port Royal's little fort would have._

_I guess I should brace myself for some bluster, mate._

_~*~_

A much more daunting subject, however, was how soon would Jack wear on James? Jack knew he was not always the easiest person to be around. He had fits of temper and there was that small problem with liking his secrets too much, as it were. He liked to laugh in the face of his friends' anger at times, and he had caught himself smiling at Jamie's scowls and not because they were so becoming on the man. It was not that Jack wanted to be cruel. He just enjoyed being infuriating from time to time.  It was part of his charm in a way. How long before that part of his charm wore thin on his Jamie-luv? 

And when the shine finally wore itself off, what then? Would James resent him? Would he blame him for a life among the fallen? Would James leave him? Would he walk away after Jack gave him back life and freedom? 

Those thoughts were more painful than Jack had expected and he took a deep swallow of rum to burn away the aching emptiness in the pit of his gut. His mind, unbidden, conjured an image of James sailing away on some a bonny sloop, laughter in his eyes and that Groves swab in his arms. They were laughing at Jack as he flailed in a cold, unforgiving sea. 

Jack blinked the image away and looked down once more at the man sleeping at his side. This was the reality. James was here right now. His romantic James had said he loved him so many times that night alone. James would be there tomorrow, awake at some ungodly hour, poking him and telling him to rise and shine. James would probably smile when Jack curses him, as well as the wave he shipped in on, for a sod-eating bastard.  James would more than likely start the day anyway, lighting lamps and getting his toilette underway, possibly having a thorough shave. James would almost assuredly laugh when Jack tells him to bugger off, when James makes his last appeal. Then, unsuccessful this time, James would kiss his head and leave Jack to his own devices. 

Jack stoppered the rum and put it back next to the bed. He scooted down into the blanket until he was lying next to James. James sighed and snuggled in closer still. Jack smiled, closing his eyes and wrapping an arm about his love. 

The shine of love was still new, and Jack decided to just enjoy it while it lasted. 

**** 

~*~ 

_The_ Black Pearl _is completely provisioned. The water casks are full and the lady sits heavy in the water.  We have crew enough not to run all- night- in. We are ready._

_This morn, I tried to rouse her captain. He growled at me and spat mumbled curses until I laughed out loud. Jack is sincerely not a morning person. Nevertheless, I started the new watch to get us underway. Jack was by my side before we cast off, shouting orders and looking about with much authority. I think he was trying to impress me._

_~*~_

Their heading was clear. They were to head back towards Port Royal but move in the leeward side from the fort. They would skirt British waters as much as possible on the majority of the voyage. 

"No sense givin' them advanced warning," Jack said. 

"You assume there will be a patrol," James commented. 

"If it had been you still as commodore, would there have been?" Jack asked. 

"Yes, of course, but…." 

"QED, luv. QED." 

"Jack, that assumption suggests that one Royal Navy commander is pretty much like another," James complained. 

Jack just stared at him with a flat expression. James rolled his eyes heavenward with a sigh. 

As he looked up, James happened to catch a glimpse of Groves climbing the ratline to rigging of the mainsail. He heaved another sigh and turned away. 

"Problem with the sail, luv?" 

James looked at Jack. Jack's eyes seemed darker beneath the shadow of his battered tricorn.  His expression was unreadable. 

"Just thinking, is all," James answered, keeping his voice as casual as possible. 

Jack looked up at the men along the yard of the main top sail pulling the ropes along the rigging to clear it from the courses. "Aye, thinking." He then walked back to the great cabin, closing the door behind him. 

**** 

Good days with fair winds brought them within sight of the western end of the Palisadoes, but they made for southern point, away from the harbor.  From there, the _Pearl_ sat within sight of the bluffs that blocked the view from the harbor side of Port Royal. 

It was around suppertime when Jack and James headed out on a dinghy to the shore. Naturally, it was a time selected by James. 

"The second watch is due to end and the third watch is to begin," James had said. "The watch is hungry and distracted by the smells issuing out from the ships’ galleys and the kitchens about town." 

"My sweetling." Jack had rewarded him with a kiss. 

It was better this way. Jack would have thought nothing of sailing the dinghy right into the harbor and bribing the harbor master. James was a bit more thrifty and less insane than that. 

It was a bit of a walk that took them through cultivated lands where sugarcane, the seed of rum, was grown. They skirted the edges of the farms, steering clear of the dusty roads, rutted with wagon tracks, which split the fields.  The sun was low in the sky, but there were a few workers still in the field.  None of them took notice of the two scruffy strangers walking towards town. 

The air was warm, but not oppressively hot, which made the walk into town a little more refreshing. There still had been a few late merchants and workmen making their way home, but the streets, for the most part, were clear. The skies were darkening when they arrived at the village blacksmith shop. Mr. Brown's smithy looked the same on the outside, with its battered wooden sign and wood figure of a man with a hammer and anvil. 

"What is here, Jack?" James asked before they entered. 

"A pirate king." 

"I thought you said William Turner was on the _Dutchman."_

"He is, luv," Jack replied solemnly. He then opened the door. 

The gloom of the smithy was the same as James remembered it.  The forge was still lit and the smell of metal and sulfur still filled the air. However, Mr. Brown's chair in the corner was empty.  A figure moved in a far corner. James noticed the shifting of skirts. The lone occupant of the shop was a woman.  

The woman's head came up as she heard the two men enter the shop, and she peered at them from across the gloom. Her lovely face, streaked with a smear of soot across one delicate cheekbone, broke into a beautiful smile as she recognized the bedraggled pirate that stood in her door stoop.  Jack stepped down with a smile as Elizabeth dropped what she was doing and rushed forward.  

"Jack!" She said as she came towards them, her arms out stretched to take Jack up in a joyous embrace. But she faltered, stumbling to a halt as her eyes met James'.  She gasped, but her smile became even more joyful. It shone like sunshine brightening the very air around her. 

"JAMES!" She threw herself into James' arms with a force that made him expel breath in a grunt. 

"Elizabeth," James said in a breathless squeak. 

"Oh! You're alive! You're alive!" 

"Aye, he is for now, but you might want to give him a bit o' breath, luv," Jack commented. 

Elizabeth released James quickly, making James stumble a step. He pulled himself up straight with a smile. Elizabeth held one of his hands while her other hand touched his face. 

"I can only imagine your presence among the living has something to do with Jack," Elizabeth said. 

"Of course," James replied.  "Jack is the only man I know of who has a large association with the undead and formerly dead. Half his friends are walking corpses." 

"You exaggerate," Jack pointed out plainly. 

"Do I?" James replied, lifting an eyebrow as he looked at the man by his side. Elizabeth's rich laughter called his attention back to her. 

She was still beautiful. James had never forgotten how very beautiful Elizabeth Swann could be.  When she smiled, when she laughed, when her eyes twinkled with mischief, she was as glorious as spring.  She was the flower of all Port Royal, and her heart belonged to William Turner. James had probably known that all along, but had allowed himself to be blind, urged on by her father's hopes and his own ego. 

"Such an unlikely pair!" Elizabeth laughed. "How did this happen? Why are you here?" 

Jack smiled, moving forward to take Elizabeth by the arm and guide her back away from the door. "We have pressin' business that requires the attention of yourself, as the pirate king and the lord of the South China Sea." 

Elizabeth sighed, taking her arm from Jack's grip she walked back over to the bench she had been working at. 

"Pirate matters, of course," she said flatly. 

"Of the highest order," Jack replied with a small bow. 

"Aren't they always," she then added with a derisive snort. 

"If I didn't know any better, I'd be thinkin' you ain't right happy to see us, Elizabeth." 

"Jack," she said, exasperated, slapping a hand down on the bench. It was then that James noticed that Elizabeth's once fair, delicate hands were dirty, worn and callused. 

"I gave it up. I'm not a pirate any longer." 

"Now that is where you are wrong, luv," Jack said with a small smile. "The title of king is binding till death, and unless you named a successor to your domain, you are still the lord of the South China Sea. You may not be active on the waves, but you still are the absolute authority of the domain between Rangoon and Macau." 

Elizabeth heaved a defeated sigh. "What do you want, Jack?" 

"Pray, be fair, dear Elizabeth," Jack said. "I fear we may not have a sound hearin' at your hands." 

Elizabeth smiled and shook her head. "You'll not wheedle anything from me that I was not willing to part with in the first place, Captain Sparrow." 

"You were always a hard one to fool." Jack's smile grew wide. 

"Peas in a pod, dear Captain," she replied. 

"The truth be this. I have need of your permission, most preferably in writing, to sail the _Pearl_ unchallenged into your domain." 

"What for, Jack?" she asked impatiently.  

"The Dragon Book, also known as the Book of Theurgical Lares and Penates. It was once the property of Sao Feng, but it fell into the hands of Cutler Beckett. That book needs to be liberated before it falls into the wrong hands." 

James snorted a half chuckle but stifled it quickly. 

"I wonder how it got into such iniquitous hands in the first place," Elizabeth asked suspiciously. 

Jack shrugged. "Luck or fate, luv. But if it stays where it is and another feculent, greedy bastard from the East India Company lays hands on it, there will be another pirate war, to be sure. So all James and I need is a letter statin' that we have your leave to be at port in Singapore. That should secure us a somewhat safe passage." 

"I don't know, Jack," she said, looking down. She then looked up at James. "You believe him?"

"Yes, Elizabeth," he said sincerely. 

Her eyes softened as she looked at him. "There is so much I don't know yet." 

"I believe him when he says that a book of that nature in the hands of another within the East India Company would be a disaster," James said softly to her. "Where such a book belongs, however, I am uncertain." 

Elizabeth wrung her hands and looked thoughtful. "I should ask Will…." She murmured. 

"Will?" Jack asked his eyes going wide in surprise. "That'll be a task, luv." 

"Not so," Elizabeth turned defiantly to Jack. "I possess the means to talk to my husband." 

"And how will you be doin' this, missy, as Tia couldn't get the ear of Davy for near a century and more?" 

Elizabeth's lips turned up slightly in a proud smile. "She didn't have his heart in her possession." 

**** 

The Turner town home was not far from the smithy. Bought with the money that Elizabeth's father had left her, it was a modest home. Elizabeth walked them to the back garden of the house. 

"I'm sorry I cannot ask you two to come up," she said. "Mrs. Mullins is a woman of fragile sensitivities. The presence of rough men may alarm her. You'll have to wait here." 

"Just who is this fusspot in your household what can't take the sight of honest seafaring gents?" Jack asked, incredulous. 

Elizabeth gave Jack a tired look. "Honest seafaring gents?" she said as she touched the stingray barb braided into his hair. Jack frowned in response. 

"She is my son's nurse, and I prefer she not be set to nervous jitters, if you please. She does a fine job and good help is scarce." 

"Ah, there is a little William then!" Jack said. "Would like to clap me eyes on the mite." 

"Another time, Jack," she replied. "He's in his crib for the night, most likely. Just wait here." 

She looked at them both sternly before she opened the back door to the mud closet. She slipped inside her own home quietly. 

A few silent moments later the door opened again and Elizabeth leaned out handing a modest glass decanter to Jack. Jack took it, but before he could say a word to her, Elizabeth slipped inside once more. 

Jack unstoppered the decanter and sniffed its contents. "Rum," he declared. "Always the attentive hostess is our Elizabeth." 

Jack sat down on the top step of the entryway and took a sip of the rum. 

"The good stuff too," he added. 

James sat beside him. "Do keep your voice down, Jack," he said in a hushed but irritated tone. "The last thing Elizabeth needs is trouble due to our presence in her back garden. She has kindly provided you with rum; now show her a little courtesy by being a tad more discreet." 

"Too true," Jack replied in a softer tone. He then passed the rum James' way. James did not refuse. 

After a good drink, James noticed that Jack was watching him with a strange look in his eyes. His expression was careful and pensive. 

"Jack?" 

"So here we are," Jack began without preamble, "perched on the stoop of the lady you once thought would make you a perfect bride, and we only just found out that she's become a mum. In there is a little tike that could have been yours if things had played out differently, mate." 

"What would you have me say to that, Jack?" James asked as he handed back the rum. "If you wish to know how I feel about it, I will not lie. It does hurt, but not as bad as one might think it should. My life has taken many turns, some of which should have been full stops. Nevertheless, there was something inside of me that I was never true to… until now." 

A slight smile curved Jack's perfect lips. "And now, perhaps, you are being true to that something? With me?" 

"Yes, Jack," James said in a soft, sincere tone. 

"And to think, I used the fact you could begrudge Will his luck with the lady to play you against him," Jack said. 

"I was still under the delusion that my life was meant to be steered in a different direction, even though it had been long ago tossed into a new course."  

Jack reached out to touch the side of his face. "Long ago, sweetling? T'was barely two years that passed." 

"The longest two years of my life," James said with a soft chuckle. "And it all started with a wet brigand on my docks, leaning over the lady I'd just proposed to on what should have been the proudest day of my career." 

"You remember what you said to me?" Jack asked with a smile. 

"'You are by far the worst pirate I'd ever heard of.'" 

"'Ah, but you have heard of me,'" Jack purred the reply. 

Jack leaned forward and kissed James deeply, his hand going about James' neck to pull him closer. James sighed as he tasted those incredibly sweet, rum-spiced lips once more. Jack's lips were silky soft and delicate. The whisper-tickle of Jack's mustache often sent shivers down James' spine and set a sinful tingle to spark off in his loins. But James caught hold of his reeling senses before he fell headlong into desire. 

"Jack," he murmured as Jack continued his kisses across James' jaw and down his throat. "We should control ourselves.  If someone were to look from a window…" 

"Let 'em," Jack said in an amorous growl. 

"It would be scandalous for Elizabeth to have two men seen kissing in her back garden." 

Jack backed off James with a sigh. "You really must find a way to stop being so temptin', luv. How can a poor man, such as myself, resist?" 

"Do try," James replied acerbically. 

"You are a cruel but beautiful man, James Norrington," Jack complained. 

"And you are like a dog in heat. Jack." 

"One minute you are leading me with your pretty eyes and gentle words; next you are calling me names." 

James chuckled softly. "I made a comparison, Jack. I never said you _were_ a dog. And what's more, if you are, you are mine and I am yours." 

"See!' Jack complained slightly more boisterously. "See how you treat me? You say lovely words like that and all I want to do is kiss you until the sea boils!" 

"Hush," James cautioned. He ran a hand tenderly down Jack's cheek and let two of his fingers rest lightly on Jack's lips. 

"Oh, what you do to me," Jack whispered. He kissed James' fingertips lightly. 

A soft but insistent clearing of a throat caught  their attention and they looked up at the doorway. Elizabeth stood there with a pleasant look on her face. Both men stood to face her. 

She smiled at them both in a telling way; and James had to wonder how long she had been behind them and how much she had witnessed. 

"That was rather quick," Jack said. 

"Apparently Will had been expecting you two to turn up on my doorstep." 

"Has he now!" Jack smiled brightly.  

"He needs to meet with you," Elizabeth continued. 

"As much as I'm pleased to hear from dear William," Jack said cheerfully, "meetin' with the captain o' the _Dutchman_ never means long life and good fortune, as it were." 

"You have Will's assurance, and my own, that your business is purely of the living. Your souls are not required." 

"I feel so very comforted," Jack muttered. 

"Where should we find him?" James asked. 

Elizabeth pulled the shawl she wore on her shoulders a little closer. "The Isla de Muerta," she said. 

"That cursed place?" James exclaimed. 

"Aye, all the more cursed since it sunk back into the sea," Jack added. "So tell me, luv, how are to make for an island that is no more?" 

Elizabeth shook her head. "William just said to meet him there. He said you knew the way better than anyone." 

"To be sure, luv, and I wish I could forget." 

"Will said he has something to give you. Something from Tia Dalma," 

Jack cringed and grimaced. "I've had plenty from that woman. Thanks but no thanks." 

"If you want this Dragon Book, Jack, you will need whatever it is that Will has to give you," Elizabeth explained. 

Jack's dismay was plain and he looked up at James. James knew that he was currently wearing what Jack called 'that infernal smirk.' 

"This gets better and better," James said. "Headlong into cursed and dangerous waters to meet death's messenger and retrieve an item from an angry sea goddess." 

"Things o' this nature are never easy," Jack said. 

"You should know," James replied sardonically. 

Elizabeth reached out to James, catching hold of the compass attached to his belt and sash. "It's true," she said softly as she looked at the item. Her cheeks grew flushed with color. 

"Elizabeth?" James said carefully. 

She looked up at James with eyes wide and glowing with joy. "Love can conquer death," she said with a beautiful smile. 

James looked at Jack, who looked back at him with a carefully serious look. 

"You take good care of him, Jack," she warned, pinning the pirate with a stern expression.  "He deserves this and more!" 

"Aye," Jack replied in a soft solemn voice. "I know." 

"If I find you've hurt him, I'll hunt you down myself, Jack Sparrow!" 

"Can never happen, luv." 

"Good," she said, satisfied. "Now, away with you, before the night watch catches a whiff of the two of you on the breeze." 

"Do I offend?" Jack asked in a shocked tone. He lifted an arm to take a sniff. 

Elizabeth laughed softly, "Yes, now get back to your ship. You have an appointment to keep." 


	4. Chapter 4

Not much had changed of the reef that had surrounded the Isla de Muerta. It was still shark infested and littered with the broken remains of wrecks. They stuck up and about like splintered bones in the heavy fog that smelled of sulfur. The island, most of the legends said, was a volcanic island, born of fire. It was probably the very same volcano that swallowed it back again. Nevertheless, the reef remained with its shattered, lifeless victims. The fog remained as well, making day almost as dark as night. Where the Isla de Muerta had been, the sea bubbled and seethed, belching hell's very own breath. 

Other than the lack of an island, it looked and smelled much the same. 

"Never thought I'd be here again," Jack said. 

"Never thought I'd smell here again," James added. 

"T'is an ugly place indeed, sirs," Gibbs said as they looked out over the foaming waves.  "When do you suppose young Mr. Turner will be making his appointment?" 

Just as Gibbs finished his sentence, just beyond the boiling sea that was once the island of the dead, the _Flying Dutchman_ ascended from the deep in a great explosion of mist and foam. 

"I would say now," Jack replied in wide-eyed astonishment. 

**** 

~*~ 

_Dear William and I have an accord. I gave him eternal life and the woman he loved. He gave me… well he forgave me. I did my honest best to be a pirate and a scoundrel by him and I really couldn't see it all the way through. I don't know what caught me up in all that.  It all seemed cut and dried until I realized that Elizabeth was right. Deep in me heart, I wanted to do the right thing. It's that vicious altruism again. Where does such an affliction come from? Was it something I ate?_

_But that is neither here nor there, mate. My worry is for James. You see, James and Will have never made amends. The last Will knew of James, he had first turned on us, tried to kill us and then tricked us and ran with the heart of Davy Jones to Beckett._

_Now that I think on all that, I remember why I was so mad at James when he first showed up all freshly resurrected.  No since thinking on that. I forgave him and I love him, scoundrel-at-heart that he is. The rest is all trifles._

_But here we are, before the_ Dutchman _, the messenger of death on the sea, and her captain may still see himself as the rival and mortal enemy of my own beloved. Not a superior set of circumstances, mate._

_~*~_  

"James?" Jack called to his first mate, still watching the _Dutchman_ with a serious and critical eye. "Go below. I'll go over to speak with William and…" 

"Why should I do that?" came the indignant reply. 

"Yes, Jack, why should he do that?" 

That voice was one he had not expected this very soon. William Turner had a soft tenor voice, unsuited for growling orders or harsh ultimatums. Yet Will held his own as a sailor and now as the captain of the _Dutchman_. 

Jack spun about from the rail to face the man who stood behind them. He smiled nervously and quickly inserted himself between Will and James. 

"William! Dear boy! So good t' see you. Settlin' in well on your first command? And how is old Bootstrap?" 

"Jack," Will said, with a pleasant expression. "You needn't worry. I have no plans on harming Norrington." Even so, Will turned cool eyes to James as he said his name. 

"All the same, dear William, I'd like your word on that. Your word has always been solid, and you are a terrible liar." 

Will frowned. "You have my word. I understand your lack of trust, Jack. It is hard to trust when you yourself have hardly been trustworthy." 

"It was an art form since corrupted and I have you and your bride to thank." 

"You blame us, but all we did was believe in what was already there, Jack. You are a good man." 

"Good! If you think so highly of me then you will honor my request." 

"I already said I would," Will replied. "You think I'm not aware of what is between the two of you? It's so strong that it is skewing your natural sense of greed and self-preservation." 

"Well, I wouldn't say that…" 

Will laughed lightly. "I have the means for you to get the Dragon Book and your only concern at this very moment is for James Norrington's safety. One would call that a little out of character for you." 

Jack pulled up short and frowned, realizing that Will was right. 

"Right uncanny that," Gibbs mumbled and Jack looked at him. He then turned to look at James who only mildly shrugged. 

"Well then, on to affairs at hand," Jack said to Will. 

"Yes," Will agreed. "The book. It must be brought out of danger of falling into the wrong hands. Calypso has charged me with making sure you succeed." 

"Has she?" Jack smiled. "Tia was always a soft one for my charms." 

"She has a task for you and all hands on the _Black Pearl_. If you succeed in this one task, she will grant you the immortality you seek." 

Jack's grin became a bit forced. "There's a catch. There is always a catch." 

"Jack," Will said solemnly. "You must capture the book. Then you will have the mystical triumvirate of the deep, once the possessions of Calypso's father, Poseidon. You will then be the guardian of the magic of the deep. It will be your job to gather all the mystical possessions of the sea." 

"Ah, and just where is the curse part involved?" Jack asked. "Sail the seas and never walk land for eternity? Never enjoy life's little pleasures like eating and drinking and be like the undead?" 

"No curse," Will said. "You get what you most wished for, freedom, immortality, and James Norrington for all eternity." 

"And the crew?" James asked. 

"Each man will be immortal until he decides to quit the _Pearl_ and remove his name from the ship's articles. At that moment, he will be mortal once more and will age naturally." 

"That be too good to be true, Jack." Gibbs said softly in Jack's ear. 

"I know," Jack replied softly back over his shoulder. 

"It's true," Will said. "But to gain this prize will not be easy. It will test all of your characters and strength of will." 

"Aye, a typical test for such things as these," Jack agreed. "Seen me fair share of them. Nevertheless, you said Calypso has charged you with making sure we succeed. How then?" 

"You need a dead man. I am the caretaker of the dead," Will said simply. "It is my job to carry those who die at sea to their final rest. Jack, do you, by chance, have anything that once belonged to Cutler Beckett?" 

Jack blinked in shock. 

"Beckett?" James said in an outraged tone. "What would we want with Beckett?" 

"Believe it or not, _James_ ," Will said coldly, stating his Christian name with some disdain, "he is the only one who knows where that book is. To gain the book you will have to gain its location from him." 

"You mean you can't just see it or something?" Jack muttered contritely. "Or have Tia look at it in some crystal ball?" 

Will sighed impatiently. "No, Jack. And even if we could, it is on land, where I cannot go for another nine years, and it is too far inland for even Calypso's reach." 

"Thus she needs an agent to act for her," James said. He then looked to Jack. "That is why she is so free with the offer of immortality. I'll warrant that all the items found in the book are not located close to the sea as well." 

"I won't argue that, mate," Jack said. 

"Jack," Will called his attention back. "I know you. You have something, some souvenir…" 

Jack's eyes narrowed and he lifted a finger. "Wait… here…." He took off in a prancing jog to the great cabin. As he reached the doors, he spun about to look Will over sternly. "And don't collect anyone!" 

Will rolled his eyes in response. 

Inside the cabin, Jack grabbed his small locking chest and took the key from his waistcoat pocket. He opened the chest, pushing past papers and other objects until he found the solid silver item he needed. He palmed it swiftly, closing the chest and locking it once more. He then went back out on deck with the same urgency. 

Jack came to a scrambling halt before Will and opened his hand. He could feel James looking over his shoulder. 

"Is that what I think it is?" James asked. "The silver knob from his walking stick?" 

"Correct, luv," Jack replied. "Cutty was so distracted telling me all about his little plan to rule the sea and put an end to the golden age of piracy that he may have given me an opportune moment or two." 

Will rolled his eyes again. 

"Will this do, William?" Jack asked with a slow smile. 

"What do you plan to do with it?" James asked in a suspicious tone. 

Will looked at James but took the sliver knob from Jack's hand. "I plan to bind his spirit to this. He will be trapped. Then, you and Jack may communicate with him to gain knowledge on the whereabouts of the book." 

"How much communicating will we be doing, exactly?" Jack asked looking slightly nervous. 

"I'll make it controllable," Will reassured. "Once Beckett has been bound, I will place the knob in a bottle. To talk, you simply pull the cork. To make him shut up, stopper it." 

"Lovely," Jack smiled. 

"Once you have finished with Beckett," Will continued. "Simply break the bottle over a block of salt and toss all of it into the sea… including the knob, Jack." 

Jack pouted. 

"But he is not just going to give us what we want so easily," James said. 

"That is part of the challenge," Will replied. "I'm sure you will rise to the occasion," he added with some spite. 

Jack looked back over his shoulder at James who wore one of his stormy scowls. But it was Gibbs who said it plain. 

"I don't like this." 

**** 

"I swear to ye, Jack, this be a curse pretending to be a blessing. Havin' a ghost aboard the _Pearl_ be just plain bad luck," Gibbs said. 

The senior crew of the _Pearl_ stood in the great cabin with her captain. This also included Mr. Ragetti and Mr. Pintel who, by virtue of being senior crew members, were each leaders of a watch. 

"For once I'm inclined to believe Mr. Gibbs' paranoia and overactive superstition," James said assertively. "No good can come from bringing that man from the dead." 

Jack stood near the navigation table, worrying the hangnail on his thumb with his teeth. It was silent in the cabin for a moment. 

Will had gone back to the _Dutchman_ to bind Beckett's soul to the silver knob, but it was still within their power to refuse the offer. Jack weighed the options. 

~*~ 

_Beckett is more trouble than he is worth, to be sure. But if William is being true to us, then the prize is indeed worth the problem._

_The Immortal Captain Jack Sparrow!_

_Forever with my James by my side. I knew one lifetime would never be enough for me and him. Freedom and adventure and love! Not to mention when we send dear Cutty back to the deep, I will enjoy cheerfully waving goodbye this time._

_The problem here, mate, is convincing the crew. But I have me eye set on a plan._

_~*~_

"And what if the book comes to be set down in the wrong hands? What then, mates?" Jack asked. "Will we suffer another brethren court to be called? That will be difficult, to say the least, as one of the brethren is trapped in a swamp and our very pirate king is disinclined to leave her babe to go play the pirate once more. Do we leave the sea to be victimized, vandalized and otherwise sullied by the East India Company?" 

"Why should we be the saviors of the sea?" James asked. 

"Beggin' your pardons, Captain, Mr. James." Mr. Pintel came forward a step.  The balding, stocky sailor smiled nervously. "If Calypso is so certain that only we can do this here deed, then ought we not to do it? I mean to say, we've all seen her power before. I, for one, see the virtue of stayin' on her good side." 

"Aye, Mr. James, there is Calypso's wrath to consider," Gibbs agreed. 

James sighed explosively with a roll of his eyes. He walked up to Jack, placing a hand on his arm. 

"Let us set sail from here; leave and never look back. We have all we need, here and now." 

"But not forever," Mr. Ragetti added in a small voice. They all turned to look at him. "We are pirates," he continued, cringing a bit as he saw all eyes on him. "Eventually we will have to do what pirates do. If we be doin' Calypso's will, mayhaps we need not worry so much about the piratin'… a few less raids and all." 

Jack looked to James. "Can you follow me on a raid, sweetling?" he asked softly. "Will you pull your blade on English men in the name of piracy? Will you follow with a will when we sack a harbor town?" 

James looked away from Jack, his hand falling from where he gripped Jack's arm. 

"Freedom comes with a price," Jack said to James. "The _Pearl_ is a pirate ship, and no power in these waters will ever forget that. We who sail her are marked men. If we are to live under the label and be damned, then we will live as freemen, and take what we can." 

"I don't know…" James breathed out. "I lived my life believing in the laws that make us civilized, and even now, when all I knew has forsaken me, I find it hard to turn away." 

"T'is easy to explain, luv," Jack said as he moved closer to James. "You were raised a gentleman. You were raised to believe that good men worked honest and hard. That they protect their own and they respect their neighbors. We never got that education. 

"Our lives are about scraping and fighting for survival from the very first. Hard work was all we could hope for.  Honesty was never a part of it. There is no respect. Our own is ourselves and the clothing we stand up in. These are the men you've chosen your allegiance with… this is the man you love." 

"Tell me that this will turn you away from active piracy, Jack and I will follow," James said softly. 

"Aye, my James," Jack replied softly. 

"Awwkk! Wind in your sails!" Cotton's parrot had the last word. 

**** 

They assembled on deck near the main mast. The rest of the crew, curious but scared, assembled in a semi-circle about the senior crew but stayed well a-port. 

Will returned holding a clear bottle, stoppered with a plain cork. Inside was the sliver knob of Cutler Beckett's walking stick. He handed it to Jack. 

"Take care," he said. "If you happen to break the bottle and not over salt, the soul could be unbound and released and choose to haunt the _Pearl_ for all time." 

"Not good," Jack muttered. 

"Aye," Gibbs commiserated. 

"As he is, he sees and hears all but cannot talk," Will continued. "If you wish him not to see or hear, place the bottle in a chest or a box that has salt sprinkled on the bottom." 

"Always salt," Jack said. "Very biblical." 

"With good reason," Will grinned. 

"So when we are done with him, will you be carrying him back t' hell?" 

Will Turner smiled. In the next moment he was back on the deck of the _Dutchman_ , waving. 

"Good luck!" he shouted as the ship's company dropped sails. The _Dutchman_ was moving off into the mist. 

"Good visitin' with ya, mate," Jack replied across the expanse. "Give your father my best!" 

The _Dutchman_ disappeared quickly in the murky fog. As soon as he was sure the ship was gone, Jack turned and scampered back to the great cabin, holding the bottle out and away from himself gingerly. He was followed by James and Gibbs. 

Jack sat the bottle down carefully on the navigation table, then stepped away from it swiftly with an expression of disdain and disgust.  James came to stand by his side. Gibbs stood to the other side of Jack as they all peered at the bottle.

"I guess we should open it and see if ol' Cutty is in there," Jack said. 

"Go on, then," James urged. 

Jack looked at him in disbelief. 

"My hero," Jack said with undeniable sarcasm. 

"I didn't want the bastard on board," James explained. 

Jack sighed and then grimaced. He reached out very carefully. Holding the bottle down to the table with one hand, he pulled the cork quickly with the other. He sat the cork by the bottle then practically jumped back from it all. All was silent. 

They waited, watching the bottle intently. 

"Maybe it didn't take?" Gibbs suggested. 

::"Did you expect me to say 'Boo?' How amusing."::

It was his condescending, syrupy-sweet and cultured tone that convinced Jack the most. That was Cutler Beckett's voice issuing forth from the bottle. 

Jack smiled and addressed the bottle pleasantly. "Hello! It is you in there, Cutty?" 

::"Yes, Jack. Do not play the imbecile with me. I've always been aware of how adaptable you are."::

"Good," Jack said. "Aye… uh…" 

::"Shocking! A speechless Jack Sparrow. And I always believed you could talk yourself out of anything.":: 

"Mr. Gibbs, would you be so kind as to step out and get us underway?" 

Jack turned to look at James who had just spoken. James' eyes were still on the bottle and his whole posture was wary. 

"And do send a crewman to the galley and have him bring up some salt to this cabin." 

::"Dear James Norrington! I see you have returned to consorting with pirates. Well, it seems this time you have not let it affect your personal hygiene."::

"Aye, Mr. James. I'll get us underway… and get ye some salt," Gibbs said shakily as he backed his way to the door. 

::"An unlikely pair to call me back from hell, where you so lovingly placed me."::

"That was not our fault," Jack said in his finest cajoling tone. 

::"Oh?"::

"Actually, I kept my word. The pirates came out of the cove, did they not?" 

::"Then you killed Jones, blew my ship out of the water and caused my armada to retreat."::

"Why is it that people insist on blaming me for more than I'm guilty of?" Jack said peevishly. 

"Jack. Never mind all that," James said softly. 

::"Oh dear, is Captain Sparrow put out? Really, James, I thought you had more class than to run with such a dirty felon."::

"I prefer a dirty felon to some clean felons I've known." 

::"Do you? Ah, but how the gentleman still protests too much. When will you realize that you and I are not so far apart?"::

"You cannot threaten me with that any more. I know what I am." 

::"Have you seriously come to terms? AH! And with Jack Sparrow!" :: The bottle practically vibrated with laughter.  ::"I must admit, our dear Captain Sparrow has many charms. You must know we were once lovers, Jack and I. We could compare stories…."::

Jack flew at the bottle, grabbing up the cork and stuffing it in place almost violently. 

"No profit in this line of chit-chat, mate." 

"Agreed," James said with a tired sigh. 

**** 

A day later, they were back on the leeward side of the southern point back to Port Royal. All during the trip, the bottle remained in a small carved wood jewelry box that Jack had stolen from some lady's boudoir. It was cushioned within blankets, and a liberal amount of salt was spread across the box's bottom. Neither Jack nor James seemed inclined to disturb the contents of the box once it had been settled and stowed in Jack's sea chest. 

James made the trip to Port Royal alone this time. 

~*~

_I say, no good can come of this. Cutler Beckett's presence in my life now threatens to unravel what little happiness I have found for myself. Yet I truly feel as if I have been forced between the devil and the deep blue sea.  If I do not accept this quest with Jack, we will be forced to acts of piracy for the rest of our short, unsatisfactory lives. How long will it be before we hang together, side by side at Gallows Point? I could ask our executioners to see to it that we are holding hands as we dangle as vulture's meat._

_Or, I endure that repugnant little eel once more. At least he hasn't a body with which to harass me with unwanted touches. But I can still hear the leering and innuendo in the very tone of his voice and laughter.  How can I keep him from telling Jack things I wish never to remember, let alone have the man I love know of?  Jack has never pressed me deeply to relate my entire relationship with Beckett. It is enough for Jack to know that he was himself the first and only man to pierce me. No other has ever done so. Only my Jack._

_I fear that Beckett will lead us to more questions than answers._

_~*~_  

Elizabeth was waiting for James at the smithy. 

"I imagine that your husband told you that we were on our way," James said. 

"Yes, in fact, he did," she answered. She then handed James a letter satchel. 

Upon untying and opening it, he found a letter from the Pirate Lord of the South China Sea giving leave for the _Black Pearl_ and all her crew to safe harbor in Singapore and a guarantee that no hostile action will be taken upon Captain Sparrow or any of his designated representatives. Furthermore, the _Black Pearl_ shall remain unmolested while she is in the domains of the South China Sea, which includes but is not limited to the open water. 

The letter was signed in Elizabeth's neat and delicately curling signature. Below that was a wax stamp that held in place a small lock of Elizabeth's honey-brown hair. 

"Hopefully that should secure your safe passage from pirates, at the very least." 

"We are grateful," James said softly. 

Elizabeth stared up into his eyes. "You really do love him." 

James breathed out a soft sigh and looked away, unable to keep eye contact with Elizabeth's sincere gaze. 

"It's not that I never cared for you…" 

Elizabeth smiled. "I know you cared, James. Sometimes we try with all our heart to be what everyone expects us to be. But no matter how hard we try, we eventually fly our colors. Mine were for Will." 

James snorted a small chuckle. "I guess I knew it before you even confessed the truth of it. What woman would ask her fiancé to rescue another man of no relation to her as a wedding gift?" 

Elizabeth's smile turned contrite. "I should apologize for that. It was a slight and a manipulation taken at your heart's expense." 

"No, Elizabeth, it was a first step on a path that lead us to here." 

"Does he take care of you? Does he treat you well?" she asked gently. 

James smiled. "I've never been good at expressing such things… as you may know. I can only tell you that he has let me see things of himself that I doubt any have seen. That must count for something. 

"Most I believe are only acquainted with the rum-pot, crazy pirate. He looks at me sometimes and I have to wonder if what I'm seeing in his eyes is really a reflection of his heart or merely my own imagination.  What's more he calls me by the most hideous endearment," James added with a chuckle. 

"What would that be?" 

"Sweetling," James said with a slight grimace. 

"Oh, the horror!" Elizabeth's laughter was like the chiming of a delicate silver bell. James had to laugh with her. 

Her laughter broke, and then she embraced him hard. 

"Take care of each other." Her voice sounded thick with tears. 

"Now, Elizabeth, William already doesn't care much for me. If he could see me now with his beautiful wife in my arms…" James teased to lighten the mood. 

Elizabeth laughed. She pulled herself back to look James in the eye once more. she blotted quickly at the moisture gathered at the corner of her eyes with the edge of her shawl.  

"Don't you worry about Will. He'll sulk a bit about how you treated him in the past, but he would never do you harm." 

"I wonder if that is so because if he did, you would come for him just as you promised to come for Jack if he ever hurt me?" 

Elizabeth stood up taller, looking confident. "Of course. I am the pirate king, after all, James. I have a reputation of ruthlessness to maintain. If I went about making idle threats all the time, how long would it be until one of those scurvy dog pirate lords challenged me?" 

James laughed. 

**** 

By dawn, the _Black Pearl's_ nose was pointed east and away from the warm Caribbean. Jack was grudgingly awake at James' side. They were on their way. 


	5. Chapter 5

** The Orient **

When they docked in Singapore, in the merchant's bay docks, Jack knew that eyes were on the _Pearl_. He carried Elizabeth's letter inside his overcoat's breast pocket.  

"We are here," James stated as he looked across the deck to the wharfs where junks unloaded their fresh catches. It was before dawn and Jack was alarmingly awake. "Where shall we begin?" 

"We begin by being very careful," Jack said. 

"And Beckett?" 

Jack did a double take over his shoulder at James with a grimace. "No need to disturb little Lord popinjay yet." 

"We cannot keep avoiding him, Jack" James said. "He is here for a reason." 

"We've done fine so far," Jack reassured. "Not that we needed Cutty to find the port of Singapore. However, sweetling, we have some acquaintances to look up before we just start prancing about the city. We need Elizabeth's influence here if we intend to get very far." 

"I am still wholly amazed by the fact that she is the pirate lord over these seas." 

Jack turned on his heels and looked at James. "You were the one who secured her succession, luv. If she had never made it off the _Dutchman_ , who would have known she had been given Feng's piece of eight?" 

James nodded in acceptance. Jack turned back about to watch the men lower the gangplank to the docks. 

~*~ 

 _Here we are, indeed. And we must step careful. Yes, we have Elizabeth's letter, but that will only get us so far. The hordes that Feng commanded are a treacherous lot and not likely to stay true just on the word of a lord who has not bothered to come and terrorize them in a year and more. The problem with Feng is he secured loyalty too heavily with fear and money.  There is something to be said for simple charm._

_Aye, charm, mate.  James **did** eventually warm up to me, after all._

_~*~_

"Elizabeth was, as always, clever on this, luv," Jack said. "She worded her missive in such a way that we may imply a bit o' menace on her part. Mayhaps some dire consequences for disobedience." 

"Dire consequences?" James looked at Jack with a suspicious frown. 

"Not all pirate lords are alike," Jack explained. "Elizabeth hasn't visited her domain since she took it up. We must assume that it has been business as usual from when last Feng boiled some poor insubordinate bastard's soul in oil." 

"But just how are we to use her letter to imply her reach is so great?" James asked. 

"It's all smoke 'n mirrors, my Jamie." Jack grinned. "You don't know how t' read pirate. It's an art of reading what is not said." 

"I was under the impression that most pirates could not read at all." 

"This is why your lot hasn't managed to eradicate us all these long centuries." 

"ASS out of U and ME…" James muttered. 

"What's that, luv?" Jack asked looking back over his shoulder. 

"Nothing," James replied. "Just a lesson a tutor in my youth tried to impress upon me." 

**** 

Jack knew the way to the bathhouse. He knew the most direct routes and easiest thoroughfares. He took none of them. Instead he led his small party from the _Pearl_ , which included James, Gibbs and four more able-bodied sailors, on a round-about tour of  most of the city that took almost the entire morning. 

"Direct routes are paths to death," Jack explained to James. 

"How can you be so sure?"

"I used to work for Feng, if you recall. He thought any man stupid enough to come the direct route was either suicidal or British." 

James bristled slightly. 

"Why must we step into the serpent's den in the first place?" James asked. 

"Eyes be on us, luv. They have been since we dropped anchor. Better to visit the serpent in its den than be surprised to find it in ours." 

In the alcove of the bathhouse's private steam room, Sao Feng's most trusted lieutenant Toi Ying still awaited, surrounded by his most intimidating enforcers. 

"Weapons please," he said pleasantly. 

Jack nodded with a quick smile and brought forth both sword and pistol. Ying took both and handed them off to be stored. Before Jack could take a step past Ying towards the entrance, Ying's hand was out again. 

"Weapons please." 

Jack sighed. He reached into his boot and pulled out two knives, handing them over with a sour expression. He tried once more to advance. 

"Weapons please." 

Jack scowled this time as he reached into his hair and pulled forth three stilettos. He pulled a bright fa biu (shuriken) from within the folds of the sash about his midsection. At last Ying smiled and bowed. Jack smiled and bowed as well. He went forward. 

James was only a step behind him, and Jack turned as he heard Ying say cheerfully, "Weapons please." 

His hand was out before James impeding his forward movement. Jack frowned. James only had a sword and dagger both of which Jack had acquired for him.  James removed the sword and handed over the dagger as well. He attempted to advance to join Jack. 

"Weapons please."

Jack's frown turned perplexed. James reached inside his coat, and around his own body with both hands. He brought them back out holding a pair of loaded and cocked pistols. James handed them over with a stern look of disappointment. Jack's mouth dropped open. 

Ying smiled and bowed. James was allowed to advance. 

"And where did those come from?" Jack asked James as they were led on. 

"Tortuga," James answered simply. "You didn't think my scowl and bellow did all the merchandise negotiations?" 

Jack nodded thoughtfully. 

**** 

Inside the great steam room where Feng's most trusted gathered for counsel, a woman sat in Feng's chair. Her beautiful face, painted traditionally in the colors of a mourning woman, and her petite form suggested she was no more than twenty. However, her eyes looked far older. She looked like a human who had seen too much and suffered too much. 

"Jack Sparrow," she said as they drew close. 

James was not surprised that she knew Jack. 

"Sao Linjing, darlin' t'is lovely t' see you again." 

The woman did not smile. "I knew Matsu would bring you back here someday," she said. "I only hope she has let you return so that you may tell me why my older brother and my younger sisters are dead, and why my brother's domain is now lorded by a woman in the Caribbes who doesn't care to come oversee her territory?" 

"Now that be a long and complicated story, Lin-luv." 

James noted the nervous smile on Jack's face as he folded his hands contritely before himself. James had to wonder why Jack was so afraid of one petite woman. 

"I have the rest of my life," she said flatly. "But yours will be cut short if you do not care to share." 

"Now, dear Lin, is that any way to treat your ol' Jack?" 

"Considering your betrayal of my trust, my treatment is kind," she replied. 

"Lin, I always intended to come back to you, but the winds moved us along. I didn't foresee that the locket would carry me away from you." 

"That may be true," she said. "But you are here now, and I know your intentions are not to make up to me the loss of my honor all those many years ago." 

James controlled the shock that burst forth inside him and kept his expression level and bland during this exchange. Nevertheless, this lady had just admitted out loud that Jack had seduced her and left her cold. She could not have been any more than a child in her teens at the time! 

"T'was unforeseeable, I swear...." 

"Everything is unforeseeable where you are concerned, Jack Sparrow." 

"Linjing, know this, I had nothing to do with the death of your siblings." 

"I know," she said. And before another word was said two heavy dadao swords were trained on James. James looked at the two swordsmen who held blades, one to the front of his neck and the other to the back.

"This is Admiral James Norrington," Sao Linjing said, "of the East India Company, who had everything to do with my brother's death." 

"Now, Lin-darlin'…" Jack coaxed in a soft, nervous tone. 

"He was aboard the ship that captured my brother's ship." 

"Then you ought t’ know that he was also the man who made the escape of your brother's ship possible," Jack countered. 

"Only after my brother was dead and that woman was named his successor." Linjing frowned as her voice grew stronger in anger. 

"He had no control of that," Jack said in a desperately wheedling tone. "It was the order of Lord Beckett and the cruelty of Davy Jones..." 

"My brother's men were there, Jack Sparrow!" she shouted over top of him. "They told me what they saw!" 

Jack cringed at the sudden anger from the small woman. 

"Then they also saw Elizabeth Swann, lord of the South China Sea, be named pirate king," James said calmly. "This woman in the Caribbes, as you put it, is the indisputable overlord of all pirates." James turned to Jack. "The letter if you please, dear Captain Sparrow?" 

"Aye, the letter!"  Jack pulled Elizabeth's letter from his overcoat's inner breast pocket. He handed it to one of Sao Lijing's men. The man brought it to her. 

She opened it and read it while a heavy silence descended on the steamy room. James could only hope that Jack was right and there was a trick to reading like a pirate, and this woman would do just that. 

"Your safe passage is now linked to my honor," Sao Linjing said in a resigned voice. The two swords lowered from James' neck. "It is my duty to obey she who was given succession by my brother." 

"And you see then," Jack said carefully. "We are only passing through. Our business is with the estate of Lord Beckett…" 

Sao Linjing looked at Jack and blinked. Then, without warning she began to laugh. Jack frowned. 

"Jack Sparrow!" Her laughter had a bitter-sweet edge that made James feel uneasy. "That house was razed the day I learned my brother was dead!" she spat bitterly. "But it was for nothing. Lord Barwell, who also resides here under the permission and protection of the Jonhor-Riau… (Sriwijayan scum!) took anything and everything of value out days before." 

"No love lost there," Jack muttered in James' direction. 

"Perhaps that is for the best," James murmured back. 

**** 

There wasn't much left, not even a shell. James could tell it had once been a lovely home with rounded, marble steps that might have led to a front colonnade.  The remains of a graceful balustrade that had once enclosed the arcade across the front of the home was now only scorched and broken stone. 

The only remaining structure one could easily identify was the charred, twisting remains of a miniature grand stair that led to nowhere. The second story was obviously ashes that had settled on the first. Even the front and back gardens hadn't escaped the blaze. The cherry trees in the back were bare and blackened on one side. The grass all about the home was brown and dead. 

"This was an impressive bonfire, mate," Jack said. 

"Do you think she told us the truth?" James asked. "Did this Lord Barwell clear the house prior to its destruction?" 

"Linjing had no reason t' lie about that," Jack said soberly.  He turned away from the one-time home of Lord Beckett. 

James watched him, noting the melancholy displayed in his behavior. "This day has brought you too many bad memories," he commented. 

Jack stopped walking and sighed. "Aye, sweetling. Let's go home." 

James knew that home was always back to the _Pearl_ , no matter where she was docked. 

**** 

~*~ 

_Jack is drinking, and when I say he is drinking, I mean he is drinking more heavily than his norm. He has taken himself down to the galley where he has surrounded himself with his crew and their merry chatter. That may be for the best._

_I do not want him here for what I feel I must do._

_~*~_  

James took the jewel box out of Jack's sea chest and sat it on the navigation table. Sitting at Jack's rickety, swiveling wooden chair, James pulled the key he had taken from Jack's waistcoat pocket. The jewel box's lock was only slightly rusted. It took a bit of manhandling to get the lock to turn, but at last, James had it open. He uncovered the bottle from the cloth that cushioned it. 

The silver walking-stick knob rested in the bottle, bright and cheerful looking, reminding James of Beckett's infuriating confidence. Carefully, James removed the bottle from the box and stood it up on the table. He then uncorked it. 

::"We are in Singapore,":: Beckett's voice was as confident as ever. 

"Yes," James replied. 

::"And where is your bonny lover?":: 

"Who is Lord Barwell?" James fired back his own question, ignoring Beckett's. 

There was a soft chuckle that issued from the bottle. ::"Truly, dear James, I'm amazed how little you know sometimes.":: 

"I haven't the time or patience for games," James said sternly. 

::"I, on the other hand, have all the time in the world.  I'm dead. What do I care?":: 

"You should know that Sao Feng's sister Sao Linjing burned your house to the ground." 

The bottle vibrated with laughter. ::"Oh yes! Feisty little minx, is she not? She never forgave Jack. But our silver-tongued pirate is incredibly good at the art of seduction, as we both know.":: 

"You haven't answered my question," James said. 

::"I suppose you will be obstinate on that point. I will answer. Lord Barwell is a ranking agent of the East India Trading Company. He was once a dear friend of my father's, and he considers himself a dear friend to me as well.":: 

"Amazing anyone sees such in you," James said with a small taste of disgust. 

::"Fear not, dear James. All friends in the company are only friends far enough for what is considered good business.":: 

"I am not surprised." 

::"So you know of the beautiful Sao Linjing? Poor girl, like the rest of us, taken in by his charms. Her fate was my fate and will be your fate, you do know.":: 

"I'm sure Jack never took your innocence." 

Beckett laughed again. ::"And surely he didn't take yours as well! Alas, Linjing is the most wronged of us all.":: 

"You set Jack on the path…" 

::"I never told him how to proceed. No, pretty James, you will have to accept the fact that Jack made the choice to seduce and deceive her all on his own. I believe he would say, 'all on his onesies?' He got what he wanted from her and he departed. He got what he wanted from me and departed. Are you giving him what he wants now?":: 

James grabbed up the cork and stuffed it back in to the bottle quickly. He then released the bottle, laying his hands flat on the table to help control his rage. After a long moment when his urge to hurl the bottle with all his strength against the far wall had passed, he put the bottle carefully back into the box and wrapped it back in its protective cloth. He closed the box and placed it back in the sea chest. 

At least he was able to garner this much from Beckett's little disclosure: Lord Barwell was probably only out for his own welfare. 

**** 

~*~ 

 _I, James Norrington, can honestly say that beyond a shadow of a doubt that I hate Cutler Beckett._

_~*~_  

When Jack finally stumbled back into the great cabin, James was on his second full glass of rum. The rum bottle sat uncorked beside the glass. 

"Drinking it straight from the bottle is far faster, sweetling," Jack slurred. 

"I felt a need for a small speck of civilization," James replied. He then took another sip from his glass. 

"Suit yourself," Jack said as he grabbed up the bottle and took a long gulp. 

"Tomorrow, Jack," James said in a level, no-nonsense voice, "I will need to secure suitable clothing for myself, Mr. Groves and Mr. Murtogg and Mullroy. We will need to visit this Lord Barwell as soon as possible and gather intelligence." 

Jack swayed for a second and then sat the bottle down. "Why those swabs, mate?" 

"They know how to behave themselves as English gentlemen," James answered simply. 

"Fair enough," Jack conceded. 

"And before you pass out for the evening, would you mind terribly giving me a few shillings from the ship's purse to acquire some decent attire for myself and Mr. Groves We will need to look like men of some means and not scruffy sea rats." 

A number of interesting expressions crossed Jack's face in those few moment, all of which James found completely unreadable.  Finally, with a strange little grumble, Jack went to the cupboard where the ship's lockbox was kept. 

"This Groves," Jack said as his back was turned to James. "He was a mate of yours then?" 

"He was my second Lieutenant," James replied. "A fine officer." 

Jack turned. "Can he be trusted?" he asked in a low tone. The question took James off guard and left him speechless. 

"I mean to say," Jack continued with a slight slur. "His prior service under your command notwithstanding, has he embraced the ideals of being a member of this pirate crew? Will he perform without question when you take him into the lion's den, totally prepared t' see through on what may call for deception and/or trickery?" 

Jack leaned forward on the table and looked James in the eye. "After all, sweetling, you be needin' decent clothing not because you intend to take tea with his lordship before you loot and pillage." 

"You are correct, Jack," James replied after he blinked back his surprise. Jack may be drunk, but he was never stupid. "I plan to deceive Lord Barwell's household. I plan to pose as a solicitor for Beckett's Caribbean interest. 

"And a right tricky little plan, luv. You do me proud!" Jack smiled wolfishly. 

"I imagine so, being my plan is a plan and not some clumsy spur-of-the-moment affair that moves like a thousand sudden accidents and manages, by some divine providence, to have the desired outcome." 

Jack straightened quickly and frowned. "You cut me to ribbons. It's a hobby now, isn't it? Never mind that. Back to the question I asked..." 

"Yes," James said somberly. "I believe Mr. Groves can be trusted." 

Jack gave James a critical look that clearly said: _"We will see."_  

Jack brought the lockbox back to the table and pulled the key from pocket in his waistcoat. He muttered something unintelligible as he fought the rusted lock. 

"Now you have stopped making sense," James said. 

"Which probably means I should go to bed," Jack replied as he opened the box before James. 

"Take what you need, but don't think I'm not countin' it all tomorrow." 

James smiled as Jack gave him his drunken version of the evil-eye. "You do trust me," James purred up to him seductively. 

Jack raised a finger. "Not fair." 

"Go to bed, Jack." 

Jack pouted, but shuffled his way to the private cabin's door. 

"I'll be in soon," James added as he heard Jack open the door. He turned to see the pirate giving him a hopeful glance. 

"See what you do to me? I'm compromised beyond all reason… miserable place for a self-respecting pirate to be. And I thought the occasional altruism was bad!" 

"Bed, Jack!" 

"I must be mad," he muttered as he went through the door, closing it behind him. James then heard him shuffle a few step, hit some object in the darkness and curse loud and long over the whole bloody buggering affair. 

James shook his head slowly with a smile. After putting aside in a leather purse what he assumed he would need to outfit his small party, he relocked the box and put it back in its cupboard. He locked the cupboard up as well and wondered why Jack had kept the padlock on that cabinet unlocked. 

James pocketed the purse for the night in his overcoat, then picked up a lamp and entered the private cabin. Jack sat on the bed, rubbing a shin he probably barked on the edge of a large wooden clothes press near the bed. 

Jack looked up at James, blinking in the lamp's dim light. "That bloody thing jumps out at me every time," he growled, gesturing sharply at the innocent wood box. 

A number of things James could have said jumped to his mind; all of them cutting and of varying degrees of cruel. But as he looked at Jack, sitting on their bed with his lips in such a lovely little pout, James remembered what Jack said to him on the island: _"My pledge to you, James Norrington: I'm coming back for you."_  

Jack had been true to his pledge.  Jack had found a way to free him from that island purgatory and bring him back to the realm of the living. Jack had taken James with him and made James a part of his life and a member of the _Pearl's_ crew.  James briefly touched the compass still attached to his belt. He then went to Jack, sitting next to him on the bed. James leaned into him and gave him a small, soft kiss on the cheek. 

"To bed, my love," James whispered. 

Jack leaned in against James, his face brightened from the sad pout to a promising little smile. James smiled as well.


	6. Chapter 6

~*~ 

_And off he goes. It's practically the wee hours and he is dressed and has roused Gibbs. Gibbs knows the markets of this fishing town. I have no doubt that they will come back triumphant._

_Now I'm up. The man is getting his habits in me. I tell you, mate, I'm compromised! James is under me skin and in my brain and all I can think of sometimes. However, that is how love is suppose t' be, I am told. Doesn't make it any less distressing._

_~*~_

Jack went to the cabinet where the ship's lockbox was kept. Upon spying its condition, he spat a string of ugly curses. Even as he maligned his lover's name and lineage, he realized that James could not have known that the key to that particular cabinet padlock had been long ago lost, and not by Jack himself, but by Barbossa. 

Jack took a few steps back from the cabinet and pulled his pistol. He took aim and shot the padlocked latch hinges from the wood. Held on by only one side, the bar and padlock swing free as the right cabinet door opened, whipping the smoke that still hung about it from the shot. Jack lowered his pistol with a satisfied expression. The door to the great cabin suddenly burst open. Cotton, Pintel, and another sailor who was from the new batch came rushing in. 

They stopped short, looking at their captain who gave them a vexed frown. 

"Beggin' your pardon, Captain Sparrow. We heard a shot and grew a bit concerned for your welfare, is all," Pintel explained nervously. 

"My welfare has never been better," Jack groused. "Now get me my tea!" he then demanded. 

They stood for a befuddled half second longer, then bustled back out. Jack thought he heard Pintel explain to someone beyond the door that the captain was fine and probably just out of sorts because he didn't get his morning tumble from Mister James, was all. He then heard that someone reply: 

"The power of the Commodore's thighs again, aye!" 

Jack's frown deepened. However, he decided to consider what he had heard later. Instead, he took the lockbox down from the broken cabinet and opened it. After a careful count, he determined that James had taken about ten shillings. What that could mean was even more disturbing. Surely, James didn't need so much for a few fine suits? 

Jack closed the lockbox and put it back. He then went to the sea chest and retrieved the jewelry box. He took the bottle out from inside and, without hesitation, uncorked it. Jack then sat back and put his booted feet up on the table. 

"Mornin, Cutty," he said casually. 

::"Jack Sparrow up so early? I would be amazed but I have long since learned to expect the unexpected from you.":: 

"From you, that's a right gratifyin' compliment." 

::"I imagine you would think so. I, however, did not mean it as such. So where is your pet today?":: 

Jack shrugged, taking his feet down from the table. He scooted forward in his seat to regard the bottle and its contents. "I don't know what you're talkin' about, mate. Barbossa had a monkey… cursed, filthy thing it was too." 

::"Don't play so naive, Jack.":: Beckett's voice held a note of smug laughter. ::"Your pet navy man, Norrington, of course… not that he is navy, or anything of consequence any longer.":: 

"Norrington is off mindin' ship's business," Jack replied smartly. 

::"Which is to say, minding your business. It truly astounds!":: 

"What's that, mate?" 

::"How a scruffy piece of trash, like yourself, can hold the attention of a man of such cunning, means, and status. His father retired high in the admiralty. And did you know that his grandfather was of the landed-gentry? A minor nobleman of some sorts… maybe once a viceroy of some colony.":: 

"Didn't know and didn't care, t' be on the truthful side," Jack replied. 

::"Of course you wouldn't,":: Beckett said smoothly. ::"What advantage could you possibly take with that knowledge?":: 

Jack shrugged again and was about to answer when Beckett spoke. 

::"None, for I'm confident it is James who has the advantage… over you.":: 

"What's that t' mean?" 

::"Nothing more than: I speak with wisdom on the subject of James Norrington, garnered from my own dealings with the man. So tell me, Jack, how much are you invested into him?":: 

"What could you possibly care?" Jack frowned pushing away from the desk. 

::"Seriously,":: Beckett laughed. ::"I meant monetarily!":: 

"Certainly this be none of your concern," Jack replied coolly. 

::"I'm just speaking as a man who gave him  support, dignity and position when he was at his lowest point.":: 

"Aye, but he gave you Jones' heart first; the very keys to the kingdom. Worth all that and much more, to be sure!" 

::"Yes, but it would have been good business, the very best business, to give him his initial asking price: the letter of marque. I didn't. I gave him more. Why do you suppose, Jack?":: 

"Because you wanted to paw his person, I presume." 

The bottle vibrated with laughter. ::"Yes, he is very, very lovely, as you are aware. But do consider that price and payment are relative to buyer and seller. You know me, Jack. Would I buy anything at fair market value? If I could beg, barter or steal it for cheaper, don't you think I would? So now, Jack, look at your lover, ex-admiral of my fleet, entrusted into my service at the highest of offices, and wonder how much all that bought for me?":: 

The implication was clear, and Jack literally saw red. His brain was so hot with fury that he barely heard the growl he made over the ringing in his ears. He had stuffed the cork back into the bottle swiftly. The silver walking stick knob clanged violently against the side of the bottle as Jack grabbed it up. Nevertheless, like a dousing in cold water, his anger broke and common sense reasserted itself before Jack could hurtle the bottle to the far wall.  

The door opened as Jack stood there blinking with the bottle still cocked back in his grip ready for the throw. Mr. Pintel cowered and ducked instinctively but still advanced carrying a tin cup. 

"Your tea, Captain," the man said in a small voice. "Just the way ye like it… rum and all." He slinked forward and sat the steaming cup of tea on the edge of the table and then scurried back out as quickly as he could, closing the great cabin door behind him. 

Jack lowered the bottle, but didn't dare look directly at it. He put it back in the jewelry box, and covered it with its blanket cushion. He shut the box and took it back to his sea chest where he stowed it away once more.  Jack then sat down at the table and took up the tin cup. He silently sipped his tea. 

"Bugger," he said flatly. 

**** 

~*~ 

_Mr. Gibbs proved to be an excellent guide to this foul, fish-smelling city, and led me to a short, ancient man who had in his possession literally wardrobes full of every kind of dress, costume and suit. It was easy to find two suits of the kind and quality an English solicitor may wear. Also, we were able to procure two nondescript livery uniforms for a pair of retainers. My only hope is that the one I chose for Groves fits. I had to guess best as I could to his size. It would have been better if I could have brought him, Mr. Murtogg and Mr. Mullroy with us. However, Gibbs assured me that such a crowd would only cause distrust and shut down communication between ourselves and our potential suppliers. Having known such operations as these (mostly upon breaking them in the name of the law), I could see Mr. Gibbs' logic in this matter._  

_I returned to the_ Black Pearl _before lunch, but before I returned to her captain and my lover, I sought out Theodore Groves. He was below in his berth._

~*~ 

James approached the man who had been his second lieutenant. Groves was sitting on his hammock, his bare feet dangling over the edge. He was preoccupied with writing using a sliver of coal in what looked to be an old, worn leather bound journal.  

This was not the same, sharp-eyed, polished officer James had come to admire and respect. His curling hair was unwashed and quite greasy from sweat. His face was far from freshly shaven. His long neck, so often hidden beneath a flawless cravat showed the loss of fat from the man, markedly, by the sharp pronunciation of Adam's apple. His feet were dirty, and from what James could see of their bottoms by the idle curl of his toes, the flesh there was black.  

"Mr. Groves?" James said softly to call his attention. 

Theodore Groves looked up swiftly, and upon noticing who had called his name, nimbly slipped from the hammock. He put the book aside on the bedding and stood before James. 

"Mr. James," he addressed him dutifully, using the name the _Pearl's_ crew had been instructed to use. 

"I've never seen you shoeless aboard ship," James remarked. 

It seemed to James that Groves' complexion darkened in the poor light of the berth hold. He looked away from James and swallowed. 

"My shoes, they were stolen," Groves said simply. 

James nodded in understanding. It was not an easy life on a pirate ship. James had learned that as a deck-hand. But now he led the life of so-called privilege on a pirate ship as the first mate and captain's man. It was in his power to make Groves' lot easier, but James had to wonder if it would only be a superficial gesture. The men already disliked him in their own special way. Why drag Groves down into it? 

James decided to forge ahead with his plan. Putting himself at parade rest, he addressed Groves as he would have back at Fort Charles. "I have a job for you. Our mission will not be easy, and will require the utmost patience and discipline. This is why I have chosen you. You have shown me time and again that you possess the character, fortitude, and steel to face heavy odds and follow orders." 

"What are my orders?" Groves asked, and it seemed to James that the man's posture had somehow slid naturally into pure military attention.  

"You will accompany me on a mission of intelligence gathering," James replied. He then looked Groves over critically as he stood so still before him. 

"Are you aware of what the men say about me?" James asked. 

Groves breathed out in what amounted to a resigned sigh. "They say you are the captain's personal whore, if that is what you mean." 

"They are kinder than I thought," James said mildly. "And do you believe it?" 

"If you tell me not to believe it, then I will not believe it," Groves replied.

"I will tell you no such thing," James said somberly. 

"Then it is true? You are a… sod… sodomite?" Groves asked nervously. 

"Does it disgust you?" James asked in a defiant tone, his head high. 

Groves hesitated. When he spoke, his voice was soft and sad. "No." 

James looked at Groves who seemed deeply troubled, but not so much by the news that his former commanding officer was willingly allowing a pirate to bugger him. 

"I loved Andrew," Groves said in the smallest of voices.

~*~ 

_Andrew? Andrew Gillette?_

_~*~_  

Andrew Gillette had been James' first lieutenant. "I hadn't known," James only said in reply. 

Groves looked up at him with troubled eyes. "How could you know when we had to keep it so secret? We feared your knowledge most of all! Our careers, even our lives would have been over… and I would have done anything to protect my Drew…." 

"Then he died on board the _Dauntless,_ " James added softly, "while I chased the pirate that eluded my reach and haunted my dreams. Folly disguised in duty." 

James sighed and looked away as he felt the realization settle upon him. "You hate me as well." 

"No, sir," Groves said, making James look back up into his eyes. "I will not hate you for that which you did not know. I cannot fault you for ignorance that we wished upon you." 

"Then I may rely on you?" James asked carefully. "Will you follow me again as your commanding officer?" 

Groves' eyes remained sad, but he stood proud before James. "Yes, you may rely on me. I hold no grudge, for I understand what it is to follow a forbidden dream. I'll not deny it from you or any man," Groves said in a quiet but dignified tone. 

"I am grateful… and I am truly sorry for your loss, Theodore," James replied.  

Groves nodded his acknowledgment. 

**** 

James finally joined Jack in the great cabin, and was surprised by the amorous pirate attack on his person. James was pinned against a wall, his coat pushed off his shoulders, and he was kissed to within an inch of his life.  

"Tell me that you love me!" Jack demanded in a determined growl. He nipped angrily at James' lower lip and rubbed himself wantonly against James' body. 

"Love you, Jack," James got out between desperate kisses. 

Jack gave no quarter. His hand reached into James' shirt so that his fingers could pinch and tweak James' nipples. His mouth devoured James voraciously. His tongue tasted James repeatedly just at the pulse point on his throat and below his jaw. 

"Mine," Jack growled. James would have asked what had gotten into his lover, but he was never given the opportunity. Instead, he was manhandled over to the navigation table while a hand fumbled in crazed frustration at his belt. Jack was everywhere at once, nipping at James' lips, pulling James' shirt tails from his breeches, running his fingernails lightly and slowly over James' chest and belly. 

It was intoxicating the way Jack was both needy and forceful. His lust was compelling and James felt swept up in its fury. Jack sunk to his knees before James, a position that always made James weak in the knees. James grabbed the edge of the navigation table, holding on for dear life as Jack fought restlessly with fastens of James' breeches. Jack still growled; his heavy-handed conduct threatening to pull buttons from fabric. He freed James' prick which was growing heavy and solid with excitement, but Jack didn't wait. With an angry grunt, he took the shaft into his mouth. 

"Jack!" James breathed out explosively as pleasure coursed through his being. He was being sucked off without mercy.  Jack's growls now vibrated about his member. The sounds of Jack's obscene slurping, a sound that James might have found distasteful at another time, only drove James' lust higher. 

James thighs trembled, and he lost his breath. Panting and moaning like a crazed man, James reached down with one trembling hand to touch Jack's face. Jack batted the hand away. 

He released James' cock to growl a few short commands. "Tell me you love me! Again! Again!" He growled and spat the word 'again' angrier each time James complied. 

Without warning, Jack nuzzled into James' bollocks. He seemed to be drinking in James' scent with each deep, ragged breath. 

"Mine…" he murmured over and over. 

James shivered when he felt the wet tickle of Jack's tongue touch his sac. He held on tighter as the sensations threatened his equilibrium. 

Jack grabbed his hips and forced James to turn. Now James was bent over the table, his hands splayed across the surface. He felt Jack licking upward from behind his bollocks. 

"Mmmm!" came Jack's satisfied moan as he licked at the entrance to James' body. James shuddered and groaned in response. 

"Mine," Jack whispered against James' tender flesh there. James could feel the scratch and tickle of Jack's whiskers.

"Yes," James whispered back. "All yours. For you, my Jack." 

Jack's tongue played nimbly at James' entrance, making sparks of pleasure dance along his flesh. 

"Wait. Stay," Jack commanded. Then Jack was up, rushing off to their private cabin. He returned quickly holding the pot of salve they used for intercourse. Jack was swiftly back down on his knees behind James. His hot, wet tongue went back to work between James' buttocks. 

Then it was Jack's fingers at his entrance, slick and smooth. They breached his tight opening and began to tease and stroke inside of James.  James moved back against them wanting more, craving more. 

"Sweetling!" Jack breathed against one of James' buttocks as he used two fingers, pushing in deeply. James let out a small cry as those fingers brushed that magical spot inside him that made pleasure burst like lightening all over his being. James was opened, and Jack's ministrations were not gentle, but they were thorough. 

Jack stood. There was a moment of deafening anticipation that was not expressed in words but in the sounds of clothing being removed swiftly and heedlessly. Then Jack had James by the hips, the blunt end of his member pressed against James' opening. Slowly it sank in, taking James breath away as it filled him. 

Jack's hands were on James' body as he moved in a steady rhythm, pushing in deeply with each thrust. Jack smoothed his hands up James' back, held his shoulders firmly for a time; then one hand slipped down James' chest, fingernails raking lightly through chest hair. His fingers tweaked at a nipple once more, and James gasped and sighed. 

"Sweetling," Jack purred. 

"Yours, Jack," James replied on a whispered sigh. "Love you." 

"Touch yourself, my beautiful sweetling," Jack commanded in a rough whisper. 

James took a hand off the table and put it around his own erection upon Jack's command. He began to stroke himself to the rhythm set by Jack's motion. He was lost, so very lost in the pleasure and the possession. He belonged to Jack and no other. He wanted Jack and no other. Within his pleasure, a deep fear burst forth, a seed planted and taking root. He couldn't hold it back. He couldn't quiet its voice in his mind and soul. As Jack's motions sped, as James began to recognize the beginning of the end.  As his own fist pulled desperately at his aching member, the fear blossomed into sweet need that made a beautiful ache in his heart. And he cried out as he came: 

"Don't leave me!" 

Jack was coming inside him, growling like a feral animal. He shook for a moment, in the grips of his orgasm, and then fell silent, leaning against James' back as he caught his breath. 

James felt the words brush lightly over his sweat soaked skin. 

"Love you, my James," said in the softest and sweetest of whispers. "My James…." 

James closed his eyes for a moment and soaked in the warmth of his lover against him. Then Jack eased off him carefully, pulling himself free from James' body. He helped James upright and pulled him into his arms. Jack took hold of the hand that James had used to pull himself off and was smeared with James' own seed.  Jack licked it clean. 

"Jack," James whispered as he nuzzled against Jack's ear. 

"So sweet," Jack said. "Now you see why I call you my sweetling." 

"What precipitated this?" James asked, feeling a little disorientated. 

"Rum in my tea," Jack answered enigmatically. He then reached up to guide James down to his lips. They kissed deeply, relaxing in the intimate glow of love on fire. 

**** 

~*~ 

_The shine of love be new. Please, let it stay new and shiny. Let it never dull so that James may plainly see who he has placed his affections on._

_Love me, my sweet James!_

_~*~_  

After supper, Jack ordered a tub to be brought up to the captain's cabin so that Mr. James could bathe. His mission tomorrow required that he look and smell the part. Likewise, basins, warm water, and shaving kits were supplied to the members of his small team.

Jack help James settle into the tub of water, admiring the peaches and cream complexion of his lover's skin. Jack ran a hand reverently over the scar just under James' left pectoral. It was where Bootstrap Bill had run James through. There was a matching scar on James' back, just below and between the shoulder blades. Jack stripped to breeches and shirt, taking up a sponge and soap, he tenderly washed his lover's perfect skin.  Jack lathered James' hair with soap and patchouli oil, combing his fingers through the dark chestnut strands. James, relaxed with his eyes closed, allowed Jack to tend to his bath. 

"You are in a rare mood," James said softly as Jack continued to massage his scalp. 

"Am I?" Jack said. "That I should want to wash my beautiful James and have my hands all over his sweet person? Sounds much like the same self-serving, wholly vulgar and self-seeking type of modus operandi of my selfish self." 

Jack listened to James' rich chuckle; inside, his soul melted like butter in the Caribbean sun. But Jack only smiled his wicked, wolfish smile. 

"You are my favorite treat," Jack purred. 

James chuckled throatily once more. "You may 'treat' me to death, Jack. I'm worn to a shadow." 

"Have you lost your taste for your lusty Jack?" Jack asked softly. 

"Nay, love," James replied. "I just need a moment to recover… maybe a day? A week perhaps?"

It was Jack's turn to laugh, and he made his laugh like the rumbling purr of a great cat. "We may parley on this. I could see my way to agreeing to terms, if that's what you be needin', luv." 

James was smiling, his head relaxed in Jack's sure grip. "Then you have laid siege to my love.  Should I run up the white flag?" 

Jack nuzzled a few kisses against James' neck, just below his ear. "Are you sure it's not me who is under siege, sweetling?" he whispered against James' ear. "Consider this, sweet-James, for a year my only want was to hold you fast in me arms again. My only goal was to free you to walk the waves with me. I turned my whole life upside down to call you my own. I'd do it again…. I'd die for you." 

James turned in the tub to capture Jack's lips in a sweet kiss. 

"I truly am yours, Jack," James whispered sincerely. 

Jack smiled. 

**** 

~*~

_Beckett is one big, damn, bloody liar. He is a feculent piece of vomitous offal that can, unfortunately, talk._  

_And mayhaps I am the fool for letting him get to me so. I always knew that my James was ashamed of what he let Beckett do to him, so I let him keep it to himself. Then, like a fool, I let Beckett play me like a jealous coquette._

_I sent my beautiful James off to bed, fresh and clean and vowed not to do anything to muss him.  That, mate, was not easy. But as ol' Teague always told me: patience is more than a virtue. It's also a means to an end. I shall curb my want of my sweetling. Yes, I have motives other than allowing him breath and space._

_This early morn I rose with him and watched him as he went about setting himself into his disguise. He is well suited to look the clean and refined gentleman… of course he is! I've gone daft, mate. Pardon. And I haven't even had any rum yet._

_Nevertheless, in that black silk suit with its long coat with gray trim, gray waist coat, perfect milk-cream cravat, and gray stockings and buckled shoes, he is lean and aristocratic beyond all belief.  I was waiting for him to pull a powdered wig from the bag of effects he had bought. He did not._

_~*~_

"A solicitor abroad dealing with nobility would never presume to wear a powdered wig. It would make him seem uppity before his superiors," James explained. "Only in the courts do they don such an item. It is considered a point of respect before the judges." 

Jack nodded thoughtfully. "Good to know." 

"In case you need to impersonate a solicitor," James said with derision. 

"Why should I want to do such when I have you, luv?" Jack replied as he brushed imaginary dust specks from James' shoulders. 

"Always the opportunist," James remarked. 

"I would not be the success I am today if I didn't know when t' recognize a fine asset," Jack replied cheerfully. He then gave James' arse a quick squeeze. James batted at the offending hand. 

"Control yourself." 

James pulled his men together on deck in the foggy pre-dawn gloom. They had a map that they had bought for a nominal fee from one of Sao Linjing's men.  It was a sanctioned map that showed the safest route and also promised the proffered protection that was a point of honor to the still disgruntled Linjing. 

Jack watched with a troubled look as James marched off down the gangplank followed by Groves, who wore an equally fine, dark suit, and Mr. Murtogg and Mr. Mullroy, who wore matching deep burgundy uniforms and carried muskets. 

"T' gather intelligence," Gibbs said as he watched at Jack's side. "Too many things can go wrong when a body is snoopin' and spyin'." 

"Too many things have gone wrong when a body rushes into a trap he should have snooped about firstly," Jack replied. Then his brows lowered deeper as he thought. He raised a finger. "All the same, Gibbs, have our little spy foray followed… insurance. Can never have too much insurance." 

Gibbs nodded then bustled off to find Mr. Marty and Mr. Ragetti. As the two chosen men approached, Jack joined them at the top of the plank. Gesturing onward with a quick flip of his wrist he preceded them down to the dock. 

"With me then, lads." 

"You're going then, Jack?" Gibbs called out. 

Jack swiveled back to look at Gibbs blandly. "Mind the ship… don't lose it this time."


	7. Chapter 7

~*~ 

_This Lord Barwell did not live far from the ruins of Beckett's Singapore home. It appears that this city is cut in sections, like so many others. And the district we were currently treading in was populated mostly by the men of means who represented foreign trade companies that saw Singapore as a natural crossroads between the edge of the outer empire in India and the far East. As we made our way, we saw well-appointed homes that flew Dutch, Danish, French and Portuguese flags as well. These were all the wealthy speculators making their inroad. I imagine it shan't be long before this city is claimed in the name of some crown to further their lucrative spice trade interest._

_Groves actually looks far more himself in his black coat and waistcoat. The simple brushed black felt tricorn fits well over his curls. Our liveried escorts move with much their old military posture and purpose once they were place in a uniform and given the handling of familiar weapons again. I began to feel the part, actually, long before the docks and the_ Black Pearl _were out of sight._

_~*~_

They walked briskly in the early morning mist, up the long marbled block path to the huge front door of Lord Barwell's town home.  Muskets smartly at the ready, Murtogg and Mullroy stood off to either side of the door as Mr. Groves advanced, reaching for the clean brass knocker. It didn't take long for his lordship's majordomo to come to the door. Groves stood aside for James to speak. 

"My name is Mr. Nigel James; this is my associate Mr. Theodore Arbor. We represent the Caribbean estate of the late Lord Beckett. I fear we have forgotten to bring our cards with us, nevertheless, we have pressing business with your master, Lord Barwell." 

The servant bowed gracefully. "This way, sirs." 

James and Groves proceeded to follow Lord Barwell's servant while Murtogg and Mullroy took up a position just within the foyer of the home, as was customary and respectful for such private guards. 

James and his companion were led through though a marbled hall and before a grand stair. To the right of that stair was what James presumed to be a morning room. The room was indeed so, with tall, elegant windows and sheer white curtains allowing in the cheerful morning sunlight coming off the front garden. The light shone on the rich wood of the floor's trim and furnishings, bringing a rosy-golden glow from the polished cherry wood. The table in the room was laid out for an early breakfast with a pristine white linen cloth, bordered with a delicate lace, silverware and fine porcelain china settings. A crystal goblet with orange juice sat next to a matching crystal decanter filled with the same. 

The majordomo directed them to sit at the two chairs provided across the table from the master's chair. He then informed them that his lordship would be down directly. The servant left them in the quiet room. 

"Certainly his lordship has made himself quite at home in this dirty fishing village," Groves remarked. 

"Do not be deceived by Singapore's outward appearance," James cautioned.  "This 'dirty fishing village' is in line to become the greatest port crossing between Bombay and Macau. The nation who places itself in the right position with the right powers stands to profit greatly. Lord Barwell has set himself up for success and a possible elevation to viceroy provided politics back home still play in his favor. That is the trick with these kinds of moves. You must metaphorically keep kettles boiling over two separate fires worlds away from each other. " 

Two servants came into the room and sat out two place settings before James and Groves, and a third place was set beside the place prepared for their host. James was about to wonder outloud about who would be joining them when a young woman entered the room.  She wore a vibrant blue dress that gave much credit to her petite frame. Her dark hair was coiffured in neat ringlets that spilled artfully down her right shoulder.  She smiled as she gave a small curtsy to the two men already seated in the morning room. Jack and James rose to acknowledge the entrance of a lady. 

"Gentlemen, my father will be down shortly," the young lady said in a small voice that James was sure would eventually grate his nerves in time if he had to endure it for too long. "I am Eva." 

"Lady." James bowed with a pleasant smile to acknowledge her rank. "I am Mr. Nigel James and here is my associate, Mr. Theodore Arbor." 

"Our Mr. Teek mentioned something about the Caribbean," she said as she swept her way into the room and around to the place setting  next to the head of the table.  James rounded the table to pull the chair for the lady to be seated. 

"We have come from Jamaica," James said as he helped the lady to settle in her chair. "The harbor of Port Royal to be exact." 

"Oh?" the young lady said. "I've heard just awful things of the goings on there. Pirates and savages, and the governor and his daughter were recently killed, as was one of my father's dearest friends!" 

"There have been some unpleasant happenings," James agreed. "It is of these happenings that  prompted our voyage here." James went back to his place and he and Groves took their seats. They had hardly settled in when the door to the morning room opened again. 

Lord Richard Barwell was a rotund man of about the same age as Weatherby Swann had been at the time of his death. He wore a freshly powdered, curling wig whose gray locks fell about his shoulders. He also wore a rich gold and red Oriental paisley print silk morning coat over his waistcoat, fine linen shirt, silk cravat, and trousers. 

"Gentlemen," his lordship said as he entered. 

James and Groves both rose again. "Lord Barwell," James said as he and Theodore bowed. 

"I see you two have met my curious little gossip-box of a daughter, Eva," his lordship said with a loving and indulgent smile to the lady. He moved over to the table, taking his seat with care. His quite large person barely fit between the arms of the chair. "No doubt she has been picking your brains on the happenings in the Caribbes. The news we get is very filtered after the long voyages." 

James and Theodore sat down once more with his lordship's permission which came as a negligent wave. "One can understand the lady's concern," James said soberly. "The news out of the Caribbean territories is grave indeed. The company suffered many losses due to pirates, and the crown lost its viceroy of Jamaica. Lord Beckett and his flagship, the _Endeavor,_ were defeated by a coalition of these brigands." 

"Nasty affairs, indeed!" Barwell agree vehemently. "To lose such a bright and rising star in the company as dear Cutler. His father was one of my dearest friends and I promised him on his deathbed that I would look after Cutler as if he were my very own. From that day to this, I have always considered the boy my own son. We grieved for him…." His lordship took up a lace napkin to blot at imaginary moisture at the corners of his eyes. 

James gave the man a moment with his so-called grief, but he soon continued, getting to the matters at hand. "We were surprised to find that Lord Beckett's estate here in Singapore had been burnt to the ground by an anti-Johor faction…" 

"Anti-Johor?" Barwell harrumphed. "Pirate scum. They flout the current Johor government's rule. They clog the waters with their foul presence; stealing from every ship they can and selling it here in their black markets. Opium, spices, jewels, precious woods, ivory… nothing is sacred. Brigands and thieves, the lot! They burned down Lord Beckett's home in their misguided idea of justice." 

"Justice?" 

"Yes," Barwell continued in a outraged tone. "As if he, a loyal British nobleman, could have wronged that lot of scum and felons." 

James turned slightly to look at Theodore who gave James a neutral yet knowing look. 

"Be that as it may, my lord," James continued. "As the representative of Lord Beckett's Caribbean interest, it is my job to pull together the reminder of his late lordship's assets that are to be sent, in accordance to his will, back to his ancestral seat in England. Once there, it is to be divided between those designated in his will as his heirs." 

"Then it is fortunate that Father moved most of Lord Beckett's priceless art collection to our home long before those nasty pirates set fire to his estate," Lady Eva said with a sunny smile. 

Lord Barwell turned his head swiftly to his daughter with a quick and tempestuous frown.  He then cleared his throat and put a much more pleasant look on his face as he looked back at James and Theodore. "Yes, well… I had concerns about security. The house was not adequately protected in Cutler's absence… and those brigands! Well, the filthy lot cannot be trusted, as you can obviously see. Yes, it was very fortunate that I moved dear Cutler's most treasured possessions when I did, or there would have been nothing for you to inventory and return." 

"Very fortunate indeed, your lordship," James said with a small smile. 

**** 

~*~ 

_Of course this Barwell lubber lives not but a small walk away from Cutty's old haunt. Must have been a short trip to rob the house, to be sure.  Not that Barwell lifted a finger in such manual labor._

_I have a small acquaintance with Lord Barwell. He was one of the famous seven of my infamous escape, and if I recall him correctly, he is a fat, flatulent buffoon._

_Nevertheless, I am a fortunate man this day.  Mr. Marty has acquired us rope and grapple. The gangly Mr. Ragetti is good at scrambling up things as am I. I need only worry about his unfortunate lack of depth perception that makes him a bit more on the bungling and clumsy side._

_However, to make up for this, I am in love, and with my love, apparently has come the very handy and practical faculty of being able to home in on my love wherever he may be. For, at our arrival across the road to the Barwell home, I pulled me spyglass t' look over the house-proper. And what did my eye land on after only a moment's glance?_

_In a second story window did I see my sweetling's un-wigged head as he moved with such easy aristocratic grace before the billowing lace curtains._

_~*~_

Jack's face broke into a slow, wicked smile as he lowered the spyglass from his eye. 

"Gentlemen," Jack spoke to Mr Marty and Ragetti who crowded the bushes next to him. "We need t' get in that room right there!" 

Jack pointed to the window that he had seen his James through only a scant second before. 

**** 

~*~ 

_After watching his lordship consume a breakfast that would have split the sides of some of the heartiest men of my acquaintance, he led us up stairs to the room where he has said to have stored some of the most valuable objects that he collected from Beckett's estate._

_Unfortunately, the Lady Eva chose to join us._

_Lord Barwell's daughter might have been a pleasant creature if only she chose to keep her mouth closed. She lacked the mental skill to truly engage in the finer discourse of polite society and often presented herself as trifling and callow. Nothing of true consequence held her imagination, and to top off the Lady's very annoying presence were the high, grating tones that issued from her throat.  Her manner is purely simpering and clinging. And I apparently hold some fascination for the poor girl.  As we began our walk up the long, formal stair, she, quite uninvited, took my arm and began to prattle on about how she had heard the Caribbean was hot and barely fit for human habitation._

_To add insult to injury, I believe that Groves is markedly amused by the whole affair. He keeps stifling coughs behind us. He tells us that the fish-smelling air from out of doors is not agreeing with him, but I know better! And his eyes are dancing with mirth._

_~*~_  

The room Lord Barwell took them to was filled, floor to ceiling, with all manner of objets d'art. There were marble statues ranging from life-size to twelve inches tall, just large enough for display on a fireplace mantle. There were small jade carvings, all of them intricate and most of them trimmed and decorated with gold and priceless gems. There were rolls that were probably tapestries and rugs of various sizes and shapes, but one could see from the rolls, vibrant saffron and reds and blues  woven into their patterns. 

There was also a selection of priceless weaponry: a six-brace of ivory handled pistols, a few ornamental daggers, and swords, scimitars, and dadaos of every description, and all of them well-crafted and graceful in form with gilded and bejeweled hilts. 

"Mind you, sirs, this is not the lot of it," Lord Barwell stated as they looked about. 

"Impressive," James said as he lifted a scimitar to examine it. "I had not known there were so many fine weapons." 

"Fine weapons only look fine when held by a fine gentleman," the Lady Eva said pointedly, fluttering her eyelashes up at James. 

Groves began to cough violently. 

"My goodness!" Barwell exclaimed. 

James used the distraction to disentangle himself from the lady's grasp. He went to the window. "With your lordship's permission, I believe my dear fellow needs some fresh air." 

"By all means!" Lord Barwell waved James on. 

James undid the latch and threw open the windows. The lace curtains billowed in the morning breeze. 

"Is that better, Theodore?" James asked, giving Groves a shark-like smile. 

"Much better. Thank you, Mr. James," Groves replied and cleared his throat once more. 

"Yes, Singapore is a dirty city," Lord Barwell said with sympathy. "But it is a growing city as well.  Lord Beckett and his esteemed father recognized this very early on. Now British interest has the higher hand here. The Company may yet be in a position to gain a deal of legal governance with the Johor who tend to keep to the mainland." 

"The Johor's disinterest and detachment would seem to suggest that a much more forceful take-over would save the company in capital," James suggested. 

"Ah!" his lordship laughed, raising a finger to emphasize the point. "You were not attentive to the lessons that guided the business hand of your late boss, Mr. James. Cutler Beckett knew that the Johor rule was flimsy and haphazard, but any attempt to force the hand would bring the full attention of not just the Johor but of their allies. That would have set us in a conflict, which would have burned more capital, in the end. It is often wise to not rock the boat, so to speak, with these savage nations." 

"Forgive my temerity, my lord," James said with a small smile that was meant to be humble but may have missed the mark. He also made a deferring head bow. "I've experienced only the Caribbean where the native inhabitances are fewer and much less sophisticated." 

"Indeed," Lord Barwell said with a superior lift of his chin. 

""Is it true that the savages in the Spanish territories eat their enemies?" the Lady Eva asked with a wide-eyed fascination that was mixed with a small part of horror. 

James turned to her with a soothing smile. "No, lady, that is an exaggeration." 

The Lady breathed out a sigh as she looked up James with a simpering expression. 

"They eat their friends," James added smoothly. He then walked on to look over a collection of small statuettes that represented each of the Greek gods of the main pantheon. James picked up one of Poseidon with his trident. He was riding a beast that was quite similar in appearance to the Kraken of popular sea lore. He heard the lady make a small squeaking gasp behind him and had a moment of uncharitable satisfaction. 

As he examined the statuette, he wondered why it and its small brothers and sisters were here as "precious" among the other valuable possessions. The small alabaster statuettes were certainly just curios and decorative pieces, but of no great value. 

"Cutler seemed to treasure those greatly," Barwell said, walking up to James' side. "I personally see no value in them whatsoever. Nevertheless, they were a pride and joy to him.  I believe he had them personally commissioned." 

That was worth knowing, James thought. Beckett had the statues specially made for himself. James put the statuette down. 

"He was not much a  follower of the mystic," Lord Barwell continued as he walked on from James to look over much more valuable statues from the Orient that had pearls and jewels set in their forms. "But he seemed drawn to the objects generated by myths of fantastic supernatural powers. What fascination they held for him, I was never sure. Certainly they were a curiosity, and so many beautiful and priceless pieces have been the results of the belief in the mysterious forces." 

"Lord Beckett was also an enthusiast of sea lore," James added. "He had actually found a way to use the legends that caused fear and superstition in the pirates that ranged the Caribbean territories. Unseen, supernatural fear can be a rather valuable deterrent."  

Lord Barwell laughed. "Fear of the immaterial, Cutler called it once in a letter to myself and other company partners. These simple sailors and pirates were easy to control." 

~*~ 

_Not so simple and certainly not so easy. Beckett is dead, and as my Jack would say: QED._

_~*~_

Just then, an extraordinary and alarming thing happened.

**** 

~*~ 

_It would have went well. It really should have worked. Next to the window where I saw my James was set of French doors and a small rounded balcony with a marble balustrade. This I could easily tell led to the boudoir of one of the home's occupants. The room's proximity with the other suggested that they may have even adjoined._

_So I pointed this out to the mates and told them that we needed to set down on that balcony right there. Fair enough, Mr. Marty agreed and we went about the garden from bush to bush until we were in a position to give our rope a throw. It would have to be quick for it was daylight. Not that I believed any of the poor villagers of Singapore gave a damn about pirates sneaking into the house of a fat English bastard. They certainly didn't give a damn about one sneaking out all those years ago._  

_Mr. Marty gave the grapple a wonderful toss and it landed as neat as can be on the stone façade above the balcony and caught on the carved granite work that boarded the roof. Mr. Marty gave a tug on the rope to make sure it was secure. I, for one, was feeling quite good about this._

_Marty went first, Ragetti second and I last. In retrospect, I can see why it might have been in my best interest to have gone second._

_~*~_

The wind picked up as they made their climb, and at first it was just a little irritant, nothing to be concerned over. Mr. Marty made it to the balcony, over-shooting the railing and jumping down to the stone platform. He immediately went to the French doors to peer inside and see if he could work the locks. 

Now, it was not that Mr. Marty's weight was so considerable that the loss of his bulk on the rope made such a difference, but at that time the wind hit them with one good blast that swung the rope out of range of the balcony. 

Mr. Ragetti looked down at Jack. "Not to worry sir," he said. "I can right us." 

Jack, of course, did recall Mr. Ragetti's problem with depth perception. The fact that he had overshot the balcony a bit farther than necessary only illustrated this. Jack, on the other hand was about level with the balcony rail.  If only he had been near it, he could have just grabbed it and pulled himself all the way onto the balcony. But he wasn't near it, and he was very concerned with what ideas Mr. Ragetti was currently contemplating. 

The rope began to swing, and Jack looked up to see Ragetti pulling himself hither and yon against it to get the rope in motion. It might have actually worked if Ragetti had understood something about old Isaac Newton's laws. First Jack swung back towards the balcony. At the apex of his swing he came so very close to reaching that his fingertips brushed the marble of the balustrade. Nevertheless, he swung back with a greater force that jarred him against the window sill of the room. His one hand still free from his reach was the only thing that saved him when he completely lost his grip. He grabbed for dear life and managed to swing a leg over too. The next thing he knew, he had hit the floor below the open wind and rolled up to his hands and knees. 

"So much for sneakin'," he muttered.  

Then there was an ear splitting scream that made almost everybody in the room cringe in pain. The woman who had issued the scream ran over to hide behind James. 

"Thieves and villains! Save me, Nigel!" 

James' frown looked as puzzled as it did vexed. 

"Who the hell is Nigel?" Jack said. 

Then Jack noticed Lord Richard Barwell who was running for the door. 

"Teeks! Grab the guards! Call the militia! We are under attack!"  

On the way to the door he was tackled by Groves in what was to look like an accidental collision. Both men hit the floor. Lord Barwell's considerable bulk caused the room to shake and the man lay on the floor winded and groaning. Groves went to the man, all apologies, as if he was going to help. 

Jack stood at this point, also noting that Groves had whipped off his coat and thrown it over what looked to be a six-brace of pistols. Bright lad! James, on the other hand, lifted what looked to be an ornamental scimitar and pulled the blade from its sheath. He trained the tip at Jack. 

"Oh, yes," Jack said in quick understanding and pulled his own blade. 

"Eeeeeeeeeek!" the lady behind James squealed again. 

"Oi! Luv, please stop with the screaming," Jack said with a cringe. "You'll make all the dogs in the area go deaf." 

"Back, you filthy cur!" James said authoritatively. 

"Now sir," Jack said with a flinty smile. "Don't go spoiling for a fight you may not be able t' finish." 

"Oh, I will finish it," James replied with a sparkle of mischievous challenge in his eyes. 

Jack quickly scanned the room, taking it all in within a split second and analyzing down to the minutia: statues, gems, rugs, tapestries, curiosities, weaponry, three men and one woman, a closed door and an open window.  Jack lunged forward in attack, and James responded beautifully with a parry that moved him to one side so that Jack could get a closer view of a group of alabaster statuettes.  He turned his head back to James in time to see him pull the insipid little wench with the piercing scream from behind him. 

"Lady, you will be safer out of the way," he said very kindly but he pushed her off with perhaps a spot too much force. She stumbled over to where Groves and Barwell still sprawled on the floor. 

James kept his eye and his sword on Jack. His face was immobile and sober, but his eyes twinkled with amusement. James was about to enjoy himself. Having gone against James once in sword-play before (but with Will as a disastrous distraction) Jack knew how ruthless the man could be.  He was like a deadly dancer with the proper weapon in his hands. The slim scimitar was lovely; the hilt had gold filigree, much like James' old sword crafted by Will. This blade suited James well, and together, weapon and wielder were poetry. If Jack hadn't been so ready for the fight, he might have found himself aroused. 

James next move was like lightening striking and Jack barely countered it in time. His blade caught the quicksilver motion of the scimitar and brought the motion through to knock it to the side. James reacted quickly; bringing the bright blade back in a slice that would have taken Jack's head from his shoulders if he had not ducked. Jack smiled. 

His James was testing his skill and Jack was up to the deadly challenge. 

~*~

_Sweetling!_

_~*~_

They paced each other and tested reflexes with each feint and lunge.  James was light and graceful, moving as if he was born to swordplay in much the same way birds were born to fly. Jack knew that it was only his own athleticism and lack of fear that made him any sort of match for James. 

And the scimitar seemed to fit his hand. The blade sung as it sliced the air with precision. It rang like a bell every time it made contact with Jack's blade.  The morning light through the open window caught the quicksilver beauty of the blade as it danced through the air under James' command.  The glow was picked up in the jewel-like sparkle of James' eyes as he looked at Jack like a hawk sizing up its prey. Jack could not help but smile. He had never seen James shine so vibrantly. 

James was deadly beautiful, but Jack knew not to let his bedazzlement get the better of him or the fight would end in a manner that neither of them intended. Instead, Jack set himself the task to observe his James' form in comparison to his own. It was only then that Jack noticed something very important. 

~*~ 

_My sweetling has never handled a blade like this before. The curve on it makes some strokes quite different, and yet he moves it in cuts and strokes like one might move a straight double-edge or cutlass.  This would be a big mistake if I were another sort of scallywag. Luckily I tend t' be in love with him._

_In love or no, there are other ways to take the advantage._

_~*~_  

Taking a scimitar to thrust is probably the biggest mistake of all that could be made.  Jack had only to wait until his James' obvious move from his current position would be to take the thrust to make his opponent give space. It was easy to maneuver James into the spot. But when James made the jab, Jack didn't jump aside but spun into James along the inner curve of the blade. Jack made sure his own blade was down, but he took James by the wrist to wrestle the scimitar from his hand. There was no fight at all, much to Jack's sudden surprise as he found he held both swords and James sat on the ground after a mild push that wouldn't have toppled a flea let alone a grown man. Jack only puzzled for a split second. James was obviously pretending to let Jack get away. 

~*~ 

_And he calls me a depraved opportunist. I must not disappoint him then._

_~*~_

But first, Jack darted to the table that held the small alabaster statuettes and took the one of Poseidon on the Kraken. He then ran back to the window, looking briefly outside. He noted the rope still swing mildly in the breeze. Jack then looked at the long lace curtains of the window and wondered how much Lord Barwell was willing to spend on fine English lace. He stuffed his sword back into its sheath and the scimitar into his sash. 

Stepping up to the window sill, he gave a cocky bow. 

"And today will be remembered as the day that you _almost_ had Captain Jack Sparrow. A little déjà vu for you, my lord," Jack added quickly. 

He swung out on the strength of the curtain. What he didn't count on was the weakness of the curtain's rod. It gave mid swing, dropping him lower. Nevertheless, he still managed to catch hold of the rope. Hooking his legs on it, he slid down hard and fast to the bushes in the front garden landing flat on his back. 

Only slightly winded, Jack watched as the rod fixture, made to look like a roman spear, came accelerating down towards his head. Jack didn't even have time to blink when it embedded itself into the ground alarmingly close to his left eye. As he rose from the ground, he felt some of his hair catch against it. Jack pulled away and stood, a little wobbly, but otherwise whole and fine. 

"Oi!" A shout came from above and then Mr. Marty and Mr. Ragetti slid down the rope as well, bungling, one into the other. They regained their feet quickly. 

"Gentlemen, it is time to quit the scene," Jack said. He then took to his heels in a sprint away from the town home. After only a second's hesitation, the two sailors followed. 

**** 

The scene in the room was chaos. Lord Barwell was gasping for breath and trying to shout for militia. Grove sat at his lordship's side, trying in vain to lift his huge person with little help from his lordship or anyone else. The Lady Eva resumed her high pitched shrieks which finally attracted the attention of would-be rescuers… and every dog for a quarter mile. Murtogg and Mullroy entered the room along with four men of his lordship's employ. 

James stood, ignoring the melee behind him. He went to the window and looked out. He saw the remains of the curtain and fixture embedded in the ground. He also saw the rope. Most importantly, he saw three figures escaping into the distance, scrambling over the iron gated wall that separated this community from the rest of Singapore. 

No one in the confusion of the Lord Barwell's guest chamber that housed Lord Beckett's art collection saw the small sly smile that briefly graced James' lips. 

 


	8. Chapter 8

~*~ 

_I should take a belaying pin to his thick skull! That bungling, insane, ruddy reprobate! And yet once more he proves that luck follows babes and imbeciles._

_I will beat on him with a stick. I swear it!_

_~*~_

James and his men did not return to the docks until well after suppertime, having been delayed by Lord Barwell's paranoid hysteria and the Lady Eva's repeated bouts of the vapors whenever James suggested it was time that he and his associates take their leave. 

Upon hearing the name Captain Jack Sparrow, Barwell had become undeniably agitated, much to James' chagrin. He sent for a small contingent of marines to be sent down to the docks in search of the infamous _Black Pearl._ James, hiding his desperation well, tried once more to press his lordship in granting them leave. 

"Fine gentlemen leaving my home after fighting brigands to protect me and mine, without so much as a drink and hospitality? No sir! I'll not hear of it again! Now sit and drink your brandy." 

Of course, James knew that Barwell was only trying to be the gracious host who just had two strangers witness his home breached in broad daylight by a notorious pirate. It was utterly a matter of saving face. James therefore also knew that, for the moment, he and his men were trapped by the shallow gestures of good form. 

Nevertheless, when Barwell's men returned, telling him that no ship by the description of the _Pearl_ was in-dock, James breathed a mental sigh of relief. He looked over to see Groves slowly close his eyes and then open them after some tension dropped away from his brow.  It was obvious that Jack knew better than to hang about docked where all could see and anyone could find him after that little misadventure.  It was also equally clear to James that the influence of Sao Linjing was at work as well. The men reported that all on the docks had told them  no such ship had even been seen in recent days. 

At long last, James, Groves, Murtogg and Mullroy were able to take their leave of the town home. But dismissal came only after a four course dinner that left James more nauseous than full, especially after watching Barwell eat an impossible amount once again. 

Where the _Pearl_ had been, sat a small junk, the size of a sloop. The crew was made up of locals, save one. At the junk's tiller stood Mr. Cotton. 

"Awk! Weigh anchor!" the parrot screamed as Cotton made a broad motion for them to board. 

The junk took them about the west side of the island, past the poorer fishing wharfs and docks. It passed beaches with rows of long fishing boats with nets drying on the rock and sand shore. They came to the inlet of a river and went on, heading inward for about a mile or more.  It was sunset when they finally heaved-to alongside  the _Black Pearl._  

**** 

"Sparrow!" James walked the deck of the _Black Pearl_ like a swift moving thunderhead. Sailors stepped quickly out of his way, clearing a path to where their captain stood before the doors of the great cabin. Jack's eyes grew wide in dismay and he quickly turned. Fumbling in a panic with the door, he sipped inside before James could reach him.  

Doors were no barrier to an enraged James Norrington. And it seemed likely that both doors blew inward with a violent crash propelled on James' anger alone, but his hands dropped to his sides. He came in to find Jack cowering slightly behind the navigation table. 

"Now James, my dearest love, my own heart, my sweetling…." 

James walked to the other side of the table, glaring at Jack. "You have raised the standards on idiocy," he said calmly. 

"Be kind, my own, my sweetling!" Jack stood up straighter and dared to smile. He held up the white statuette in his hand. "We have what we came for." 

James looked at the statuette. "That cannot be the book," he stated. 

"And you are right," Jack replied, looking more at ease as he came from about the table. "T'is not the book, but t'is the very key to the book's locales." 

James looked Jack over carefully. Oh, he still wanted to beat him with a stick, but he thought he ought to give him a chance to explain first. It seemed only sporting. 

But perhaps that was a mistake as James watched Jack advance. His pirate lover knew he had the advantage as long as he held James' attention from his anger. Jack was extraordinarily cunning in knowing what would distract just enough. As he walked to James, Jack's hips took on that particular roll and sway that always stole James' concentration. 

"Now, luv," Jack said in a sultry purr. "Remember I was in Beckett's employ for quite some time, and I know these statues didn't exist before he had that book." 

"And why should that matter?" James said, looking down his nose at Jack, trying with all his remaining discipline to resist the seductive force of Captain Jack Sparrow. 

Jack hefted the statuette. "He didn't know what a kraken looked like. The book had pictures." 

James frowned as he thought about this small bit of reasoning. It still seemed like disjointed pieces to him. Jack let his hand drop, smashing the statue down on the edge of the navigation table. The alabaster shattered into stones, shards and dust, but Jack held something else. 

Jack shook the dust from his hand and from the cloth scroll he held, unfurling it in one move. Jack grinned at James as he lifted the cloth for him to see. 

"Just when I think you are wholly daft and completely dim-witted, you show me yet again that you are, instead, a sheer bloody genius," James said. 

"You'd do well to trust in your ol' Jack." 

James took the scrap from Jack's hand. The white cloth, still dusty from the remains of the statuette, was made of silk. On it were markings of some Oriental origin. 

"Jack, do you know this language?" James asked. Jack came to look at the scripted calligraphy with him. 

"T'is not Mandarin or Hunan," Jack declared. "Nor is it the tongue of the Johor, the Sanskrit." 

"Then what is it?" James asked. 

"T'is the next part in a riddle," Jack answered. 

"It will require Beckett, I'm sure," James said dourly. It was overdue that they should utilize the man's knowledge after all. 

**** 

~*~ 

_I did not beat on Jack as I had first planned. Instead, I found myself drawing strength from him as we stood as a united front against Beckett.  I hadn't told Jack of the previous conversation I had with Beckett. I had hoped I would never need to._

_There was a tension in the air as Jack drew the bottle from its resting place and put it on the table. The tension was not just from me but from Jack as well.  Beckett was unnerving in life.  He is almost intolerable in death._

_~*~_

::"Where are we now? Knowing Sparrow, hopelessly lost and surrounded by unsavory types.":: 

"Where we are is none of your affair," James said sternly. 

::"May we have a cessation of hostilities, James?":: Beckett's tone seemed to soften for a moment. ::"Is it too much to ask from one English gentleman to another?":: 

"And what of Jack?" James said critically. 

Beckett gave a soft chuckle. ::"Jack Sparrow is nothing like us. He has no honor, no breeding. He is of the most common of the common stock. He is a thief and a liar by trade and by admission. He should hardly matter between men of quality, such as ourselves.":: 

"You elevate me to your level now? When did my blood grow so noble?" 

::"The linage of Norrington is not unknown to me,":: Beckett replied smoothly. ::"But that is not the issue, is it? Can you really trust Sparrow?":: 

"You speak as if the man is not in the room with us." James' voice held a firm edge of anger. 

::"He is of little consequence now.":: 

"Now that I find amusing," Jack muttered as he went to the cupboard to grab a fresh bottle of rum. He sat in his chair at the navigation table and propped his booted feet up, next to the bottle. "If I can't be trusted, why would you say I don't matter? I find spilling secret alliances in front of blighters I can't trust to be highly unproductive and often calamitous." 

::"You wouldn't know how to utilize the information I have to impart, Sparrow. You are too petty and self-interested. Real power would be lost on one such as yourself.":: 

"Power, eh?" Jack said. "Is that what we are talkin' about now?" 

"Power over the other company partners?" James laughed. "Don't you see it, Jack? He's trying to tell me that he has a secret to give me that will enable me to take a stake in the East India Company." 

"Aye, luv," Jack said. "Hear his price first." 

::"No price. A gift, from one gentleman to another.":: 

"You are not renowned for your gift giving," James said in a flat tone. "There was always something you wanted in return." 

::"How well I do remember every gift you gave me for that which I gave you.":: 

Beckett's voice took on a soft tone of innuendo that made James' skin crawl. James hands curled into tight fists and his jaw clenched, but he swore to himself that he would stand his ground. 

Jack's feet came off the table with a thump. "Bastard! You feculent, scurvy piece of slime," Jack growled, his hand reaching for the bottle. James grabbed it in time. 

"No Jack," James said softly. 

Jack looked up at him and James could see the anger that burned in his dark eyes.  Rarely did Jack become so enraged. 

"Do not give him power over us." 

Jack's eyes cleared and he smiled. "Aye, luv." 

James took his hand from Jack's wrist, and with deliberate care, he placed the cork back into the bottle. He then sat the bottle back in the jewel box, closing the lid. He turned back to Jack. 

"Let me speak with him alone." 

The smile fled Jack's face. "Why's that now?"  Jack stood to face James. 

James took a step towards him. "Please, Jack," he said softly. "Trust in me, my love." 

James looked Jack in the eyes and he knew that Jack was looking deeply into his own, reading him, judging what he knew against what he believed and what he wanted to believe.  The dark storm within Jack's eyes grew turbulent, but only for a moment. Then James saw the mask, the devil-may-care façade, drop neatly into place on his love's face. It stung sometimes to know Jack so well.  Now, James could see and understand when Jack's battered heart would throw up the walls to keep betrayal at bay. Jack was prepared to be doublecrossed. 

"Trust in me," James whispered once more. "Please." He reached out and touched Jack's face tenderly, his finger tips brushing lightly along the curve of Jack's lower lip. 

Jack took a single step back from James, breaking the contact. He then moved past him to walk out the doors of the great cabin. 

James closed his eyes briefly as he heard the door shut softly behind him, and he was aware of everything he risked at this moment. 

James sat in the chair Jack had vacated. With a calming breath, he opened the box once more. He withdrew the bottle and uncorked it.  There was a brief moment of silence in the cabin. 

::"You managed to send him away,":: Beckett said at last. His voice sounded only mildly surprised. ::"I knew that I did not give you credit enough in the past. Sparrow is not easily controlled, and yet you seem to have him on a short leash.":: 

"Jack does as he wills," James replied calmly. "I do not control him." 

::"Do not discredit the power you have over him,":: Beckett replied smoothly. ::"Surely that is a mistake, much like underestimating his intelligence.":: 

~*~ 

_Something you have done quite often!_

_~*~_

"I do not pretend to understand all of Jack Sparrow's motives." 

::"Wise of you. Nevertheless, he is not too difficult to understand. He fears death, like most men. He has a very good reason to.":: 

"Jack has seen death. We both have." 

::"Jack saw the Locker. That was only one of many different hells that exist beyond. Now, I do not belittle it, you must understand. The madness it would have eventually produced would have driven him beyond all reason to return. Only days in its depths have driven the most rational to repeated suicide. It is hard to kill oneself when one is already dead.":: 

"My peanut…" James whispered in sudden understanding to something Jack confessed to him not too long ago. 

::"But there are deeper hells still,":: Beckett declared. ::"If Jack is smart, which we both know that he is, he would fear them all.":: 

"That would be wise of any man." 

::"Not so,":: Beckett replied cheerfully. ::"If you truly believed this, you would have heeded your vicar and not dallied with a man.":: 

"My judgment is not at issue here," James said defensively. 

::"But it is,":: Beckett challenged. ::"For here we are alone. Obviously, you have taken my offer as feasible to some degree, or you would not have sent Sparrow away.":: 

James held still for a moment, pulling his anger in. He then placed the silk cloth square on the table next to the bottle. 

"This," James said in a stern, soft voice. 

::"Why not just ask me where the book is?":: Beckett asked. 

"I know better," James answered flatly.  "You have a very shrewd and keen sense of product versus price." 

::"That I have. And you have learned never to ask for more than you can reasonably pay for,":: Beckett replied in a lightly amused voice. ::"But you are still so very naive, James.":: 

"Be that as it may, I still require an answer to this," James said pointing to the cloth. 

::"I will give you this much free of charge," Beckett replied. "It's actually in a language Jack understands. Did he lie to you and say he didn't recognize it?" 

James did not answer. His lips shut tightly. 

::"It doesn't matter, all in all,":: Beckett added. ::"It is coded. He couldn't have deciphered the code too quickly.":: 

"You are a liar." 

::"Am I?":: Beckett laughed, making the bottle vibrate once more. ::"Dear James Norrington, we are all three of us liars. You have lied to Jack. I have lied to you and Jack has lied to everyone he meets. Where does the truth hide? Why should I care? I'm dead.":: 

"But there is something you want," James said in a low voice that was almost a growl. 

::"Of course. I want Jack Sparrow… dead. I have for some time now. He knows this. So, if you see fit to send him along to me in hell, I shall give you the key to this riddle and then you shall have the book… for what good it will do you. Oh yes, you must save the sea from us nasty entrepreneurs.":: 

**** 

Jack's ear pressed to the key hole of the door, he sat on his haunches, still and quiet, as he listened. 

~*~ 

_Aye, luv, he is a liar, and do not give him power over you; over us!_

~*~ 

Jack moved after he heard what sounded like James closing the box. Jack stood and moved away from the door. He looked out on deck at the sailors that stared at him expectantly. Jack turned away, heading below, but he paused briefly on the steps as he heard Ragetti address Pintel: 

"What does it mean then?"     

"It means that the Captain and Mr. James are either very smart or very desperate," Pintel replied. 

Jack continued on down the stairs. He knew that James would know where to find him. 

**** 

~*~ 

_We lie to each other. We lie to ourselves. I must trust in Jack. He has to trust in me or else Beckett will win! It stands on a razor's edge now._

~*~ 

James went swiftly down to the hold. He rounded boxes and crates stacked high and dusty, waiting to be shifted. He passed the way downward towards the bilges and the brig. James went to where the four great cask of rum sat, roped into place and secure.  Jack was there, sitting with his back to one of the large barrels. James stopped before him. There were so many things he could have said to start this conversation. Any number of those things could have been angry and cutting, and he would have been justified. Nevertheless, James Norrington took the chance that there was something more between himself and Jack than blind lust. 

"I love you," he said firmly. 

Jack looked up at him, his eyes sad, expressing some inner regret. "I love you, my James," he replied. 

"Love must mean trust!" James said emphatically. 

Jack shook his head. "Nay, love. It never has. It never will. T'is some romantic notion that leads fools to believe that trust follows love." 

James sank to his knees next to Jack. "How can I trust you then?" 

"You can't." Jack replied. "William and Elizabeth learned this lesson the hard way." 

"I must trust you!" James said forcefully. "You must trust me!" 

Jack touched his face tenderly. "The letters are Tamil, but I don't know what the note means, and I swear this to you on the _Pearl_." 

"And I believe you, my love," James whisper. He turned his face into Jack's touch, kissing the palm of his hand. He then stood once more. 

"Perhaps love cannot lead to trust," James said. "But it does not mean that I cannot choose to trust you all the same. Call me a fool. I will trust you, Jack Sparrow." 

"As many times I have asked you to trust me and you have, you don't need to tell me. I'm a fool, my own sweetling." 

"No, you are the victim of conditioning, as am I." 

"Beckett is a filthy liar, but he is right in this one thing:  You _are_ a man of quality," Jack said. 

"But you are as well," James replied softly. "You are a good man, Jack Sparrow." 

James turned away and left Jack to his thinking. 

**** 

~*~ 

_My sweetling forgives so easily and so wondrously that I am lost in him.  How could I doubt him? How could I believe that he would sell me to Beckett? How?_

_Well, there is that small bit I heard before James put Beckett back in his box._

_~*~_  

::"…Oh yes, you must save the sea from us nasty entrepreneurs.":: 

"You are a villain." 

::"My offer stands. My price is reasonable. Actually, I'm doing you a service. How long before either one or the other of you decides the sea and all its spoils are not to be shared?":: 

"That is only because you cannot understand what it means to think of another before yourself." 

::"And you think Jack Sparrow can? You are indeed naïve, my dear James. How long were you a captain in the navy, hunting pirates? Have you forgotten the very nature of your one-time foe? If you think for a second that Jack will always consider you, then you are a larger fool than I ever expected. He wants you for his immediate pleasure, yes, but once you have moved beyond your usefulness, you will be abandoned.  I assure you.:: 

::"Think on it, James Norrington. Then consider my offer. It will continued to stand.":: 

~*~ 

_James said nothing else after this. He did not defend me.  He did not call Beckett a depraved, fiendish liar, nor did he reject Beckett's oh-so-generous offer. He simply put that bottle of excrement back in his box._

_What am I to believe?_  

_On the other hand, what is James to believe after I followed him to Barwell's home and wasn't square with him on the note in the statuette?_

_He believes in me._

_~*~_  

Jack left the hold with a filled bottle of rum, coming up to the grand cabin to find his James already with a bottle for himself. James was drinking deeply. 

~*~

_I will not give Beckett power over us! I came for my James to have him with me forever! I will never turn him away. Beckett lies to him and I must prove this._

_I will prove this. I will give him more than just my love. I will give him my trust._

_~*~_

"I am a fool," Jack said as he knelt before James. "I am a ruddy, stupid, blind, pig-headed, sun-struck, addle-brained fool.  I ask you time and again to trust in your Jack, and you do.  Why then can't I learn to trust in my James?" 

James smiled at Jack sadly. "But you do. So many things you have shared with me… so many things you have told me and no other…. 'My peanut?'" 

Jack looked into James' eyes with dawning realization. There were things buried deep within him, things he never wanted to face ever again that surfaced while he had been imprisoned in the Locker. He had told James of every single one. He had trusted the man with his open soul, and James had known it. He had relied on it. James had always known. Jack just needed to realize and to understand. He already trusted his James, deeply and dearly. 

"He can't come between us," Jack declared, a smile growing on his face.

"He never shall," James replied, as a wicked twinkle sparked to life into his eyes. 

**** 

~*~ 

_Every time Jack drove his torture existence to suicide in the Locker, every little regret, fault, and failing he felt pushed ten-fold back in his face by his own guilt-ridden sense of failure, every little piece of his beleaguered psyche he had shared with me. As I told Elizabeth, Jack has let me see things of himself that I doubt any have seen. Yes, it does count for something._

_~*~_

Jack was up early, but James was still up long before him. Without disturbing him, James went about his early morning routine. He then went out on deck, and it wasn't  long before Jack came out of the great cabin, heading below, probably to get his morning cup of tea with rum. James went back into the great cabin and slipped quietly inside their private chamber beyond. There he waited. 

He heard Jack's return. He heard the thump of wood on wood and the creak of the chair at the navigation table. There was a rustling and a scrap, and then the slight clink of metal against glass. 

"Morning, you disgusting little eel." Jack's voice sounded cheerful. 

::"Dear Jack, always so bright and pleasant.":: 

"Dear Cutty, always so vile and immoral." 

::"Pot calling the kettle, Jack":: Beckett replied smoothly. ::"So where is James? Off doing 'ship's business' again?":: 

"When you say it, it takes on such an obscene edge." 

Beckett laughed lightly. ::"Surely that is only the effect of your own depraved mind. He is your whore now.":: 

"And not yours. Even when you don't say it, you say it," Jack replied. "It must be difficult for you, knowing that he is mine, body and soul.  You could barely get a pinch on his sweet left cheek without offering him rank and a curly new wig." 

::"How little you know, Jack.":: 

"That you touched him? That you kissed him? Or perhaps you are referring to the time you sucked him off? A little fellatio after afternoon tea, as it were?  How about the time he let you rub your naked body all over his person?" 

::"He told you. How interesting.":: 

"He's mine. You shouldn't be surprised." 

::"For how long, Jack?":: 

"For as long as he pleases me. That promises to be quite some time, to be sure." 

::"Ah a pleasant conquest. But you do know that he loves you… or so he thinks he does.":: 

"Love is loyalty, now isn't it," Jack replied. "A nicely handy tool." 

::"And here I thought you would be leery of it.":: 

"Only when it cuts too close. My heart is my own, savvy?" 

Beckett laughed again. 

James used the opportunity to open the door between the two adjoining rooms slowly, stopping it before it creaked upon its hinges. It was open just enough that James could fit his body through sideways if he eased himself slowly. James moved gradually, silently. 

Jack sipped on his morning cup of tea and rum. 

"Let's get to business," Jack said as he sat forward a bit. "The way I see it is this, you think I have nothing to offer you." 

::"You think that you do?":: 

"Aye," Jack said in a wheedling tone. "I have the ear of the captain of the _Dutchman_ , something dear James may never have." 

::"What benefit would this bring?":: 

Jack cocked his head and looked at the bottle with a vexed expression. "So you want t' go back to hell then?" 

::"You could gain me heaven? Somehow, I doubt that highly.":: 

"Not heaven, but not back to the pit you inhabited before Will plucked you out of it. How would you like eternal service on the _Dutchman_?" 

::"As a common tar!?":: Beckett said in a offended tone. 

"Aye, back to hell then. I hear Beelzebub isn't as bad as the stories all say. Quite cruel, but not at all ugly like one might expect from a demon…" 

::"You drive a hard bargain.":: 

"But reasonable. I should think an eternity of service swabbing decks beats all of hell's best garden parties any day." 

::"But I will miss my only wish.":: 

"And that is?" 

::"Seeing you there, Jack.":: 

James slipped the bow of the black ribbon that bound his hair. It came free into his hand. He took it, gripping it tight in both hands until the silk bit into the soft flesh between thumb and forefinger. 

Jack sat back smiling. That was when James struck. He brought the ribbon about Jack's exposed neck and twisted. The force threw Jack from the chair, twisting against the pressure that cut off his breath with a crushing force; he landed on the hard floor with James practically on top of him. 

James held on through the thrashing, through the clawing, and through the gurgling, choking that made his stomach turn. James held on as Jack flailed against him, his long hair flying about and his booted feet thumping the floor. James held on as wordless sobs broke from his own throat. Slowly, with feeble pulls and one last strained gulp, Jack went still. 

James lowered him to the ground gently. He then gave vent to his own horror in one long low wail. All was silent except for James' muffled sobs of pain. It was done and James sat weeping, for a moment, unseeing to the room about him. He sat with his hands open, bruised red where the ribbon scored into his flesh. 

At last, Beckett spoke. 

::"You'll not regret this.":: 

"I hate you!" James hissed. He pushed himself up to the table, placing himself in Jack's seat. He wiped his face quickly on the sleeve of his coat. 

::"That is irrelevant.":: 

"The code…" James said grasping the bottle in shaky hands. "We had an agreement." 

::"Yes we did,":: Beckett said brightly. ::"Too bad you had to kill Jack for it. He could have deciphered the Tamil at the very least. The code is alphabetically three letters to the left for every letter, and then translate the letter to its English equivalent. There you have it.":: 

James let go of the bottle, as the door burst open. Gibbs came in swiftly and stopped dead in his tracks as he saw Jack sprawled on the floor beneath James. 

"Mutiny!" Gibbs breathed out in surprise and disgust. 

James reached below him, pulling Jack's pistol from his sash. He stood to face Gibbs. 

"Is there a problem, Mr. Gibbs?" he asked as he came about the table with the pistol trained on the man. Gibbs eyes focused solely on the end of the pistol. 

"Nay, sir." He backed away as James approached, but Gibbs' eyes burned with fury and fear. James walked Gibbs out of the great cabin doors, shutting them behind him. The sound of Jack's pistol was loud in James' ears, making them ring so that he barely heard the hard and heavy splash off the starboard side. 

James went back to the great cabin doors, waving Mr. Ragetti and Mr. Pintel to him. 

"Get him out of here." James said in a strained voice as he pointed to Jack's unmoving form. 

"Aye sir," Pintel said soberly as he and Ragetti went to take their ex-captain away. They took hold of him by the arms with his head drooping between his shoulders and his hair hanging practically to the floor. They went, dragging his booted feet behind. 

James closed the door to the cabin as they left. He then leaned his head against the oak doors with a heavy thump. 

::"Congratulations, Captain of the _Black Pearl_ , James Norrington."::


	9. Chapter 9

~*~ 

_It translated easily enough. The book was hidden in plain sight. I pray this has been worth the cost._

_~*~_

James did not make the mistake of visiting Lord Barwell's town home at breakfast again. Instead, he and Groves arrived with their escorts just after luncheon. Just as he had hoped, they were taken to Barwell's large study to wait for his lordship. The man Teeks bowed as he left, closing the study doors. 

"Quickly, sir!" Groves cautioned in an urgent, whispered tone. 

James looked about the room. As James expected, his lordship's study was a fashionably tranquil looking room with handsome leather chairs that looked plush and comfortable. A fireplace sat clean and piled with wood for an evening fire. On the mantle sat a small wooden box cut with intricate ornate patterns of East Indian origin. James guessed that the box held tobacco for a pipe. There was a great globe that sat on a rose wood pedestal next to a desk of the same luminous rose wood.  Only two walls were devoted to book shelves but these were floor to vaulted ceiling high. 

"Three from the top… twenty to the left…" James murmured as he looked up the first case which was to his left. 

"There is no ladder," Groves informed as he looked about the room. 

"There is nothing else for it," James replied. "I shall give you a boost and you must stand on my shoulders." 

"Sir?" 

"Last I checked, Groves, between the two of us, you are the lighter. Would you rather have my bulk on your shoulders?" 

"Er…" Groves managed not to look too panicked. 

"I thought as much," James said dryly. 

It took some trial and error, but at last they stood, Groves' feet on James' shoulders; James' hands bracing him at the ankles. Groves held on to the bookshelves for practical reasons of balance. 

"I don't think it's here," Groves said. 

"Are you certain?" James asked with a slightly straining grunt as his back protested the extra weight. 

"Third shelf from the top and twenty books in," Groves replied. "This skinny book on tribes of lower Angola hardly seems to be a big book of magic in disguise." 

"Very well," James said. "As Jack is always reminding me, things of this nature are never easily accomplished. We will move to the next shelf." 

"Should I come down then?" 

"No," James said as he adjusted his grip. "Stay with me. Hold on to the shelves as a guide and move as I move." 

They began their walk, slowly and carefully. They edged their way along the first set of shelves, heading for the second. 

"How do you think Lord Beckett managed to slip the book into Lord Barwell's collection completely under his awareness?" Groves asked. 

James grimaced as he thought of Beckett. "Knowing that repugnant creature, I would not doubt via some incantation and blood sacrifice." 

"Oh…" Groves said. He then sneezed. 

"Whoa!" James wobbled and then steadied. 

"Sorry," Groves said contritely. "Very dusty." 

"Just keep moving." James barely caught himself before he called the man 'Lieutenant.' He sighed at the notion. 

"Sir?" 

"Nothing, Groves. Just keep looking." 

"Third down… twenty over…." Then Groves wobbled a bit more than James could handle. First a very large book fell just before James' nose, taking him by complete surprise as it missed his toes and hit the floor with a substantial thump. But James really had no time to consider that last fact, for Groves was coming down as well, practically on James' head. A shoed foot to the forehead and a knee to the back and then they lay in a heavy sprawl on his lordship's Oriental rug, having raised a ghastly racket when gravity took its toll.  Of course, this was when the Lady Eva rushed in. 

"Oh my stars!" 

"Lady," James said weakly, "forgive our manners if we do not rise to greet you." 

Groves made a very small groan. 

**** 

~*~

_No, it wasn't easy, and Groves and I are fortunate that neither of us broke our backs in that fall. Nevertheless, the Lady Eva actually gave us opportunity to spirit away our prize. Bless her squealing little soul. And it must have been due to her lack of perception and acuity that she never happened to question how Groves and myself came to be in that position on the floor of her father's study._

_She raised an alarm and called for physicians. It was while she had the rest of the house in an uproar that I was able to give the heavy tome off to Mullroy, who, under the guise of sending a message to our accommodators, was sent away from the house. He was to proceed directly to the junk that awaited us and order them to take him to the_ Pearl _. There, he was to give the book to one man and one man only._

_~*~_

The bottle still sat uncorked on the table. The silver knob sat within looking bright and cheerful, innocent of the greed and evil of the soul that possessed it. It had sat motionless and alone for many hours now.  It sat and waited. 

Then the doors to the great cabin opened and Jack Sparrow walked in. He walked with that familiar cocky sway, holding a large book, brown with age, and with an ancient, tarnished brass buckle that held its contents secure. The brown leather of its binding was worn and stained black from centuries of hands and sweat. Jack set it on the table next to the bottle. 

"Lookie what I got!" Jack beamed cheerfully. 

The bottle seemed to vibrate strangely for a second. 

::"You're alive! Of course you are. I should have known better. He would never kill you.":: 

Jack sat in his chair once more. "No, and I know you're disappointed and all. See, my James is a right clever and sneaky man when he needs to be." 

::"I see.":: 

"And he knew you'd never be square with us less we did something you really fancied. Now, wantin' me dead be something you really fancied. I knew it. You knew it, and James knew it. We just had to supply it." 

::"Yes, a convincing little show you two did.":: 

"Aye, well, me with the dying t'was not much, but James and that wailing was worthy of the stage!" Jack replied enthusiastically. "The pretending to kill ol' Gibbsy was my idea. Didn't want you to doubt for even a minute." 

::"Bravo, Jack,":: Beckett replied dryly. 

"I must admit," Jack said as he pulled the book towards himself and undid the clasp. "I half expected this t' be some fake, a ruse, as it were, and the real article would be elsewhere. But then I thought on it. Who else but you would hide something right under a rival's nose? The partners being the greedy and suspectin' group of maggots that they are, you probably guessed Barwell would ransack your house for it." 

::"Yes, I strongly suspected that he knew  the book was in my possession. He questioned me at length once about you.":: 

"But how did you get it in?" 

::"Mr. Mercer knew people of great talent.":: 

"Aye, that be a burglar. Hired to add and not subtract. That had to be an interesting little bargain." 

::"I offered it as a challenge.":: Beckett replied smoothly. ::"Once it was in place, I knew it was quite safe. Lord Barwell didn't know ninety percent of the contents of books in his little library.  There were times when I doubted the bloated creature could read.":: 

"ASS out of U and ME…" Jack said with a small grin. 

::"What is that?":: 

"Just what James taught me about assuming." 

::"And where is your darling little man-whore?":: Beckett asked. 

"James will be along shortly. Bit o' trouble at the Barwell house, he took a tumble and the strange chittering wench went into hysterics.  Called the physicians and all."  Jack replied with a nonchalant wave of his hand. 

"I'm here, Jack" 

Jack looked up to see James advancing through the door. Jack rose with a smile, stepping up to him. James was still in his dark, fine suit but he looked more than a little ill-used. There were scuff marks on his lapels, his wrist was bound with a bandage, and he looked to be developing a rather impressive black eye. 

"My, you look like you've been no less than keelhauled," Jack said with a grimace. 

"Thank you, Jack. I wasn't aware that I looked like I just came out of a dockside tavern brawl. What would I have done without your astute eye for details?" James replied with his usual dry, cutting sarcasm. 

"Cut to ribbons again," Jack grinned. "And I love it!"  

"It was an escapade worthy of you, Jack, and I may never live it down," James added. 

"You may be very well right, at that. You won't live it down," Jack confirmed. "Nevertheless, a success is a success, and let's not bandy about the details." 

"You have examined the book then?" James asked. 

"Aye, luv, t'is the same one I stole all those years before, or else dear Cutty here paid a pretty penny to have it carefully duplicated down to the last thumb smudge and torn page." 

"Good," James replied standing straighter. He clasped his hands behind his back as he usually did when he was about to talk strictly ship's business. "Then might I suggest to the captain that we get underway? Lady Eva's confusing influence on her father will not last, and when Lord Barwell finally thinks upon the events of this day, he may seem inclined to enquire about us. When he musters his men to find the so-called solicitors from the Caribbean, it would take only one small slip of a tongue to call down the wrath of the East India Fleet in the South China Sea. In that eventuality, I would highly recommend that our nose be pointing south and west, heading back to the Indian Ocean." 

Jack stared at him for a moment. "You are incredibly wordy. Coulda just as easily said, 'let's get the hell outta here before someone suspects.'" 

"I suppose I will learn to be concise for your sake, Jack." 

"Don't bother," Jack replied. "I'll just get used to the long-winded speeches. Anything less and I would suspect doppelganger." 

James scowled. 

::"As cute as your love-banter is, I doubt it will be enough to keep you together,"::  Beckett said with smooth contempt. ::"You are both self-serving liars when all is said and done. Treachery and betrayal has become a way of life for you both.":: 

"And that one is having a bout of 'sour grapes', don't you think, sweetling?" Jack said pointing back to the bottle. 

"There is little we can do to help him," James said letting the 'infernal smirk' slowly invade his expression. 

"Aye," Jack smiled, coming closer to James. He put an arm about his waist and pulled him close. "And I'm not feeling all that altruistic today." 

"That is fortunate for me," James said softly as he let his lips brush against Jack's. 

::"And so it begins. Triumphant, you ignore my warnings, but I assure you, someday you'll awake to find….":: 

Beckett cut off mid sentence as Jack reached back with a fast, fumbling hand and found the bottle's cork. Without disengaging the kiss he currently enjoyed, he blindly re-corked the bottle, only upsetting it slightly. 

Jack loved kissing, and kissing James was such an overwhelming treat for him some days. James was still the prettiest kisser Jack had ever had the pleasure of enjoying. The way the color flooded James' cheekbones, the soft touch of his shapely lips, the whisper of his breath in a gentle sigh, the way he would tremble ever so faintly made James the purely perfect sweetness that Jack craved.  He couldn't imagine living a life without that source of delight now. 

Jack released the kiss, looking into the jade-fire of James' gaze. "Shall I put Cutty away for now?" 

James shook his head. "No. No, Jack. Let him watch," James said in a husky voice. "Let him see what will never be his, what he never had… what is yours forever." 

"You are so good at making my blood boil with your pretty words," Jack replied as he pulled James close again. Jack kissed him deeply, tasting tea and brandy. 

"You've been at the brandy, sweetling," Jack whispered against James' lips. 

"Only what his lordship's physician prescribed," James replied as he nipped playfully at Jack's lower lip. 

"Aye, a necessity for any man brave enough to inhabit that house with that shrill little creature about. And if I were his lordship, I'd order it be placed in the kennel water dishes too." 

James chuckled throatily and then kissed Jack deeper. Jack felt James' hands moving over his chest, smoothing over his shoulders and pushing his coat down and off. Jack moved his arms from James to let the coat fall to the floor. He would have recaptured his lover once more but James' quick hands and nimble fingers had moved on to the buttons of Jack's dark waist coat. Jack smiled wickedly. 

"You are keen for this," he said, holding his hands out of the way as James stripped him. 

"You're mine," James whispered hotly against Jack's ear. "Want you inside me!" 

And it was those passionately spoken words that got Jack's full cooperation. Jack's full cooperation got them down to skin much faster, which suited Jack just fine. Since the night he had bathed James, stroking soft, white skin, he had dreamed of this moment, the moment he would taste him once again. Jack's lips found one small pink nipple, surrounded by soft brown chest hair. He licked tenderly at the sweet, sensitive nub and listened to James' soft hiss as he inhaled on clenched teeth. 

Beautiful man, Jack thought. 

~*~ 

_All mine! Aye, let Beckett watch!_

_~*~_  

Jack's lips enjoyed James. His mouth played like a child on James' throat, collarbone and chest. His tongue frolicked with abandon against James' ear lobes. His teeth cavorted gleefully against one nipple and then the other.  All his. Yes, James was his, forever. He knew that now without a doubt. 

Jack knew it and reveled in the knowledge as he turned James against the table, sinking to his knees.  His tongue took up a new game in another one of his favorite playgrounds on James' person. Jack listened with delight as James told him what every movement and every motion and every motive was doing to him. 

"I'm yours, my Jack! Oh my love! Yes… yes… touch me there! More!" 

Jack smiled. He felt powerful. He felt potent. He felt twelve feet tall with a prick made of solid metal. Aye, Beckett never had this man, this James Norrington. He never knew this sweetness. Never! 

It was a quick, whirlwind of a moment to retrieve the salve; then Jack was back, leaning against James' back, his fingers hot, inside the silky tightness of James' body. Jack rested his lips against James shoulder blade, his tongue tasting the salty sweetness of his skin. And still James told him more. 

"OHHH! Jack! Yes! Deeper in me. Make me whole! Make me your own!" 

Jack was very deliberate when he guided his ready member into James' tightness. He listened with hungry ears as James groaned long and low and began to beg Jack to move inside him. With his hands on James' hips, he drove his cock home again and again as he threw his head back, taking deep gulps of air. His hips moved with a will of their own, and he was lost in the very essence of the sensation. James was his. He was inside James. They were home on the _Pearl_. This was paradise. This was forever. 

Jack knew that he could live very happily in this forever, and it was a wonder that it was his. Was it all his? Was this the wish finally come true just as he wanted it to be? He looked down at the strong shoulders of James Norrington. So very beautiful. Then James turned his head and flashed Jack a glimpse of pure green fire once more.

Jack tumbled headlong into ecstasy, gazing at the jade eyes of the man who loved him without reservation or doubt. 

After a moment to catch his breath, Jack opened his eyes, his hand reaching about James. His hand encountered James' own, still holding his wet and softening member. 

Jack kissed James' shoulder. 

"Do you think Beckett got the hint?" James asked in a soft and breathless voice. 

Jack chuckled. "Aye, sweetling, you didn't miss. 

Jack laughed as he watched the dribbles of James' seed slowly slide down the clear glass of the corked bottle.


	10. Chapter 10

~*~

_My James can be a particularly heartless man, mate. Now, he wanted to sit ol' corked-up Cutty on a table in our quarters in clear sight of the bed. He wanted to keep rubbin' the salt in the wound, as it were. I, on the other hand, thought enough was enough. Call it another bout of altruism or call it spooked by the idea of havin' a ghost watchin' me sleep, I wanted Beckett in his bottle back in the box._

_Luckily, James agreed._

_My sweetling was right about pursuit. It did come, and fortunately the_ Pearl _had the wind in her sails, nose pointing southwest. And the_ Black Pearl _be still the fastest ship on this or any sea. We were long and gone._

_We rounded the cape no longer in fear of pursuit. The open sea never seemed so very beautiful. Each morn, I awoke to my James tellin' me that I should rise and enjoy the dawn. I'd mumble some threat and he'd laugh._

_Deep in the heart of me every day, love fills me up. It's in all the little places in me soul that used to be dark and hollow. It shakes out the regrets and makes every breath I take sweet and rich with life. So, this is what Will and Elizabeth knew? If so, then I can now say that I understand how it be truly worth so much._

_Not all treasure is silver and gold, to be sure._

_~*~_

It seemed fitting to Jack that they go back to the Isle de Muerta to deliver Beckett back to the sea.  It was just sheer dumb luck that they managed to make it through the treacherous reef by midnight: the witching hour.

~*~ 

 _Spooky, indeed. But I'll have that feculent little maggot off me_ Pearl _and Gibbs can keep his gabbin' about 'bad luck' to himself!_

_~*~_

"I tell ye, Jack, it be bad luck to be casting out the dead at midnight in a cursed sea, mark my words!" Gibbs said. Jack ignored him. 

"Consider them marked," James replied coolly, coming up to the two men. Gibbs frowned as he looked to James, but moved away, recognizing the reprisal of an old dismissal. 

Softly to Jack, James said. "I must presume that nothing will steer you from this course?" 

Jack shook his head. He looked at James who looked at him. Jack wondered if he should ever tell his beloved Jamie about the last conversation he had with Lord Cutler Beckett. 

~~~ 

::"So it ends,":: Beckett said coolly. 

"Aye. I suppose you'll be having some last words… some insult to me… perhaps a rude request, as it were?" Jack said as he watched the bottle on the desk, noting the gleam of the silver knob within. Beckett's prized walking stick, something else he took from his father besides his title and his money. 

::"No.":: 

The bottle was still and quiet for a long moment, and Jack lifted the cork to put it back in place. 

::"All I had wanted from you, from the beginning, was your heart,":: Beckett said in a soft, thoughtful voice. 

That revelation took Jack completely off guard. His hand, still clutching the cork, dropped to the table with a thump. 

::"When I saw you, in that tavern, I could see beneath the tatters and trinkets, beneath the rough, devil-may-care smile. I saw a man of beauty that under the right influence could be polished and refined into someone graceful, cultured and genteel. But you refused to be refined, Jack. You reveled in your vulgar nature, and there was nothing I could do to stop you. There were no words I could use to change you. But that made me only love you more.":: 

"Love?" Jack said softly. "Nay, not love, Cutty. Desire to dominate be more to it. I wouldn't be what you wanted, and it rankled you. That wouldn't do a t'all. You couldn't make me into your polished lapdog so you kept rubbing me nose in me messes like a bad puppy. Shoulda guessed I would eventually run away. 

"And to keep with the canine metaphor, how nice it must have seemed to you to at last fall in with a purebred when you met James. Unfortunately, he was a hunting breed and not a lapdog as well." 

::"I never loved Norrington,":: Beckett confessed smoothly. ::"He was always a pleasant diversion and a means to an end. Don't you know why I wanted him to kill you Jack?":: 

"Because you want to see me dead." 

::"When I was alive, your death to me meant to at last have the final measure of control. No one would have you.":: 

"Much like you, to be sure…" 

::"But I wanted him to kill you, Jack, because I knew there was nothing left for me in this world. I would return to hell, and you would be there. And perhaps, just perhaps, hell would be more bearable with you forever.":: 

Jack leaned back in his chair and regarded Beckett in his bottle.  The polished silver knob of his walking stick, one of his most treasured objects glinted in the candle light as Beckett's voice issued from the bottle in a sincere, wistful tone. It was a tone that Jack rarely heard from the man, but Jack could recall hearing it come from him in the past. It disturbed Jack more than any other words Beckett had ever said. 

He quickly placed the cork in place on the bottle. This conversation was over. Jack placed Beckett-in-the-bottle back inside the chest and closed it up. 

"An eternity with you would have been more hell than any soul could stomach," Jack said to the box. "I would pity you were it not for all the innocent souls you sent on out of this world to further your own machinations. And, if that be the fact that you wanted me so badly, then I have that on me own soul t' bear as well." 

~~~~ 

"Let's be done with this," Jack said softly to James. "I want to hold you tonight," he confessed. 

"Of course, Jack," James replied. The concern in James' eyes was plain to see, and Jack knew he would have to tell him something. 

James had two sailors spread a blanket on the main deck. In the center of the blanket, Cookie sat a block of salt from the galley. James came forward with the jewel box. 

"Shall I, or would you care for the honor?" 

Jack took the chest. "Best let me," he said solemnly. "I'll not let him sully you any further." 

James snorted a mild chuckle. "It's only breaking a bottle." 

Jack looked at him, still serious and somber. "It's sending the damned back to the pit of despair." 

Jack then sank to his knees next to the salt block and placed the chest carefully on the _Pearl's_ deck. He was very careful as he pulled out the bottle, and he made sure the block was centered on the blanket. He didn't want even a dust-size sliver of the cursed glass getting itself on the timbers of his ship.

James, still watching with a troubled look, instructed four sailors to lift a corner of the blanket to bowl in the contents. 

Jack hefted the bottle in his right hand, looking it over closely for the very last time. 

"Goodbye, Lord Beckett. I guess in the end, we get what we deserve. It took me a long time to learn that. Me Da told me and Mick told me. Elizabeth Swann told me too… each in their own way, to be sure. Vicious bouts of altruism have their rewards.  They off-set the earnings in hell for all the greed." 

Jack let his hand open, the glass bottle tumbled the short distance and connected with the salt block. The clear glass shattered cleanly, releasing the silver knob that tumbled over the fragmenting salt. The bottle had broken with a pop, but the glass made no noise as it fell about the blanket. 

Jack stood, and the four sailors that held the blanket ends brought them together. They tied the salt, the knob and the broken glass into a neat bundle. 

"Throw it off the side," Jack ordered. 

Murtogg and Mullroy, who had been two of the four, nodded.  Carrying the bundle to the starboard side of the _Pearl_ , they heaved it to the boiling sea where the Isle de Muerta once existed. It was done. Jack and James went to the side to watch the bundle float away from the ship, slowly sinking as the blanket grew heavy with water and the remaining block and heavy silver knob pulled the bundle down to the deep. 

From beyond the _Pearl's_ bow, the _Flying Dutchman_ surfaced from the depths in a glory of spray and thunder. Will had come to collect his charge. The Ship glided among the dark waves and settled alongside the _Pearl_. 

"You were successful," Will said, his voice almost at Jack's ear. Jack jumped and whirled to face him. 

"You should really stop with this ghostie sneakin' thing, William," Jack tried to say blandly, although he was currently catching his breath from the shock. "It does you no credit." 

"I rather enjoy it, Jack," Will replied with a small but smug smile. 

"Little immortality and the boy has delusions of grandeur," Jack complained. 

"We completed the task set before us," James said directly to Will. "Calypso will keep her end of the bargain?" 

Will's smile grew a bit bigger as he turned his face to look at James. "She had already granted you all immortality the moment you agreed to take Beckett on to the _Black Pearl_ ," he said. "She never doubted you." 

"Still the trustworthy Jackie Sparrow," James murmured to Jack. 

"Hush, mister 'I serve others before I serve meself!'" Jack hissed back at James. 

"I never doubted you," Will added. 

Both James and Jack turned to look at him with incredulous stares. Will gave a great laugh. 

"How many times must you be told that you are a good man, Jack Sparrow, before you finally believe?" 

"Let us not risk this rare humility in Jack," James said, placing himself at parade rest with a smug expression. 

"I doubt we can," Will replied. "But, this gift that Calypso gives is only a mark of her trust in you, Jack. You and all the crew of the _Black Pearl_ are her agents now. The task before you will consume the ages. It will not be easy." 

"Aye, find the objects from the book," Jack said impatiently. 

Will smiled fondly. "It will be your job to secure them and keep them safe, Jack. It will be the responsibility of you and James and all the crew of the _Pearl_ to keep these items from falling into the hands of the greedy and irresponsible… for the sake of all. As long as you stick to the quest, Calypso will provide for every one of you." 

"Then no more piratin'?" Gibbs asked looking confused and a bit crestfallen. 

"No more pirating, Mr. Gibbs," Will replied. "At least none will be necessary. What you chose to do in your free time is another matter entirely." 

"I suspect that this course shall leave us very little free time, indeed," James added. Will did not reply but only smiled. 

From just behind James, Theodore Groves came forward and stepped to the starboard rail. He stared hard at the crew of the _Dutchman_ , assembled along the port side of that ship. 

"Drew?" 

James and Jack's eyes were drawn to gaze where Groves looked with an intense and hungry stare. 

"Gillette…" James said softly and Jack looked from him to the young-looking red-headed man who stood on the forward deck of the _Dutchman_ just below a lantern's wan light. Jack then looked at Groves whose entire body seemed to be straining, holding back from flying from the very deck of the _Pearl_ to sail across the expanse between the ships and land at the other man's side. 

"I see there will be one member of the _Pearl's_ crew that will not keep his name on the ship's articles," Will said solemnly as he watched Groves' intense gaze. 

James' frown was stormy, "Theodore, that is the ship of the dead. To sign aboard is eternal. There is no leaving the _Dutchman's_ crew." 

Groves tore his gaze away from the _Dutchman_ and looked James in the eye with the same angry intensity. "You think I don't know that? What would you give to be with the one you love, James Norrington? What have you given? Do you think my heart is any less than yours? Do you think I would throw away a chance for love forever just to be free? Did you?" 

James did not reply. Jack watched James' expression soften as Groves spoke. What did James give? He gave Jack his trust and his loyalty. James could have taken Beckett's offer. James could have been free to sail the seas with the immortality promised by Calypso and without Jack to hamper him. And yet, here Jack stood by James' side. 

"Leave him be, sweetling," Jack said softly, putting a comforting hand on James' shoulder. "We all deserve our fair share of forever." 

James looked back at Jack, his green eyes, dark but beautiful, expressing some wistful sadness. 

"Be glad for me… for us!" Groves said, calling back their attention. "We have been honored to have served under your command. Now, we are going on to a new commander." 

Groves saluted James with a crisp proficiency and competence that made even his ragged ship-board attire look clean and navy-issue. 

"We will be on our way," Will said, looking the crew of the _Pearl_ over with a pleased expression. "Fair winds to you. If ever you need the _Dutchman_ and its captain, you may come here to call upon me." 

With that, William Turner vanished from their midst. Theodore Groves vanished as well at the exact same moment. The crew startled slightly after the abrupt departures, but Jack looked over to the _Dutchman_. Will stood at her quarterdeck looking on as the _Dutchman_ began to move off back into the sulfurous mist. 

Theodore Groves threw his arms about the red-haired lad on the _Dutchman's_ deck. The man James had called Gillette enthusiastically returned the embrace.  The two men kissed, unabashed that they stood top-deck for all to see. 

**** 

~*~

 _We sailed into a golden dawn and Jack Sparrow was wide awake. He never went to our bed. Instead he stayed on deck, at the wheel of the_ Black Pearl _, as we sailed away from Isla de Muerta. He kept his head forward, never once looking back. He was silent, and I was concerned. However, I will not disturb his thoughtfulness. He will tell me what troubles him in his own time. I know this now._

_Instead, I saw to the ship's smooth operations, taking on the late watch and part of the morning watch that would have belonged to Mr. Gibbs. As the sun peeked bright over the endless waves, I went below and fetched tea sweetened with rum._

_~*~_

"Jack?" 

Jack turned to look at James. He squinted for a second, either from the sun's warm light or from fatigue. James was unsure which it could have been. James handed Jack his tea. 

"Ah!" Jack said as he eyed the cup with a pleased expression, and he sampled the steaming contents. "Perfect." 

"You should get some rest," James said softly so only Jack would hear on the busy deck. 

"Are you not always on at me about catching the best of the morning?"  Jack said with some mild irritation. 

"Only after you have slept the night through," James replied. "You are no good to this ship fatigued…. Please, Jack," James added in a near whisper. 

Jack turned to look at James. The pirate captain truly did look fatigued and ill-used, his eyes were blood-shot and the ever present kohl about them was smudged and all but gone. His perfectly lovely lips looked thinned with strain. Even the beads and trinkets in his hair seemed to be faded and drooping. 

"Please, Jack," James whispered again, placing a hand on his arm. 

Jack blinked and managed to look more awake for the moment. "Aye, well, you have been up just as long. I should order you t' your bunk, mister!" 

James smiled. "And I would gladly go if I knew I would be warming the sheets for my captain's quick arrival." 

"Always with the pretty words," Jack said in a low purring voice. 

"Come, Jack." James extended a hand. 

Jack motioned to Cotton to take the wheel. He then followed James down to their cabin. 

***** 

James turned to Jack just as he reached his side by their bed. With deliberate care, he took the compass Jack had gave him from his belt. James opened it up and watch the needle settle with unerring accuracy.  Jack stole a peek over top of the lid and observed the needle's direction. 

"So that is what you want most in the world?" Jack asked soberly. 

"Yes," James replied. 

"Forever?" 

"Yes." 

Jack smiled that old, wicked smile. "Now that is a right fortunate thing, to be sure," he said as he took the compass from James's hands and held it in both. James watched the needle swing smoothly away from Jack's chest to aim with a steady, nearly quivering determination back at himself. 

"And that is what you want most in this world?" James asked with a smile. 

"Cursed thing is useless to us now," Jack said. "T'will ever point to you when it is in me hands." 

James laughed. "Not so useless, my Jackie." He tenderly touched Jack's lips.  

"Ah! Oh!" Jack said suddenly, shutting the compass and passing it back to James. He half jogged, half pranced over to the long clothing press near the bed. He threw open the wooden lid. From within, Jack withdrew something bright. James recognized it at once. 

It was the scimitar James had used in Lord Barwell's home. Jack returned with it, presenting it properly to James, hilt first. 

"I didn't manage to get the scabbard," Jack said. "We can get it a fine one soon. Perhaps back in Jamaica… or Bombay. Not likely we could come upon a worthy scabbard for such a fine blade just lying about. One may have to be made… or better yet, we could head back to Singapore and get the one that was made for it. What say you to that? Stealing stolen plunder wouldn't count as piratin'. I'd call it recovering." 

James took the sword and held it up, looking its fine blade over with a quiet smile. 

"You obnoxious felon," James said with much affection. 

The End


End file.
